S(witch)ed
by everchanging-evertrue
Summary: The frequent comparisons to Lily Evans come as no surprise to one bushy haired witch. They were, after all, both Muggle-borns, both brilliant, and both shared an undying love for one Harry James Potter. So, when they find their roles reversed, The Brightest Witches of Their Ages should be able to fake it 'til they make it back to their own time…right?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- Kindly PM pointed out a line that didn't make sense, so edit made 6/2. Sorry!_

.oOo.

 **Summer 1999**

 **The Ministry of Magic**

.oOo.

Kingsley Shacklebolt took it upon himself, as the Minister of Magic, to keep special tabs on the welfare of all Ministry Workers. Especially if they were a part of the war efforts, Merlin knew what kinds of things they were suffering from. Even more especially, of course, if they happened to be a Miss Hermione Granger, who was currently shifting in the chair opposite his own, quite put out that she was called down to the Minister's office. She was, along with many of her year mates, a temporary Ministry employee, solving some of the problems left after the war while Hogwarts was rebuilt. The school was closed for a full year before any students could step foot into the castle again, and despite lamenting the fact that she would be the oldest student to walk the halls, Hermione was adamant that she would be returning, dragging Ron and Harry along with her.

"Minister Shacklebolt," she managed to greet finally, the formalities being pulled from her throat when Kingsley knew very well all she wanted to do was throttle him.

"I've asked you to call me Kingsley, Hermione," he drawled, trying to keep the smirk off his face when she realized he _still_ wasn't going to tell her what this little impromptu meeting was about.

"So you have, but it's difficult to remember informalities when you have me feeling like Professor McGonagall has called me down for detention," she grit out, and Kingsley let out a booming laugh.

"I believe she's asked you to call her Minerva, too, Little One," he said, and giving up pretenses, Hermione sighed, slumping in her seat with her face behind her hands.

"Are you quite done?" she asked, sharp brown eyes glaring at him behind her fingers when he reigned in his amusement. Having decided he had pushed one of his favorite little witches enough that day—if Zabini being hexed to the ceiling by his pinky toes was any indication, he did not want to get on her bad side—he decided to get down to business.

"You're not in trouble, I have no new case for you to work on, and I'm not trying to hire you permanently again. Yet anyways," he said, trying to alleviate what would be her most immediate concerns.

It seemed to have worked, and Hermione exhaled loudly, blowing at curls of hair that escaped her usually fastidious bun.

"What do you want then," she asked, crossing her arms and glaring. "I was certain I had made a break in—"

"That's it exactly, Hermione. You just got that case, nobody is expecting you to have it solved so quickly! Hell, Bill Weasley's taken a look at it and even he doesn't know where to begin."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to reply, but then suddenly narrowed her eyes. "You think I work too much." Her voice was too calm, this time it was Kingsley's turn to be unsettled.

"It's not that, necessarily, Hermione, but nobody can deny that you've been throwing yourself into your work quite a bit more this past month. Molly said she barely sees you." Kingsley waited for a moment, waiting for the guilt of having her almost mother be worried enough to call the Minister to settle in properly. "Is it about your parents?" he asked, and Hermione sighed, deflating before his eyes.

"Among other things," she mumbled, and Kingsley nodded. _Just as I thought._

"You know, the offer still stands, say the word and I'll have our best Potioneers looking for a cure," he said, offering Hermione the Ministry's help in gaining her parents memories back for at least the thousandth time.

"No!" she blurted out loudly, unable to stop herself. Kingsley looked at her in alarm, surprised by her outburst. "No," she repeated, calmer this time. "I've got them into this mess, it's my responsibility to get them out of it" _Plus, I don't trust any of your shoddy Ministry employees farther than I can throw them,_ she left unsaid. Shacklebolt may have been one of the most competent Ministers in decades, but it was still _the Ministry_. "I do appreciate your support, Kingsley. But I can do this. I promise."

"Of course you can," he said, threading his fingers together before resting his chin on them, leaning forward. It was difficult to discern at first, especially if you didn't know her well, but the Minister could tell she was exhausted. The Ron situation was always on again off again, unless something terrible had torn them apart this time, it shouldn't be weighing on her this way. And although the issue with her parents' memory was rather pressing, it wasn't exactly new. Really, there was only one thing that he could think of that would send Hermione into such a tizzy, something his once-classmate-turned-colleague Remus Lupin had theorized many years before, but it certainly something he wasn't looking forward to bringing up.

"Am I free to go, Minister?" she asked heavily, and Kingsley decided that getting to the bottom of her funk would be worth whatever creative hex she'd send his way.

"Just one other thing. I, ah, assume you've heard about the upcoming engagement?"

She snorted. "Even if he hadn't asked me for advice, it's been all over the paper."

She was right, of course, Harry Potter's intimate, romantic, all around perfect proposal to his beau Ginerva Weasley was the subject of every newspaper, magazine and tabloid for days. Of course, that had ruined it entirely, because Harry hadn't ever gotten the chance to propose before _somebody_ found out what his plans were. Hermione put her money on one of the Goblins at Gringotts who had seen herself and Harry peruse through the Potter vaults. After the whole dragon situation, the goblins were not exactly the Golden Trio's number one fans. Really, it was a wonder Ginny hadn't gotten her hands on a copy of the Daily before Hermione had bewitched _anything_ mentioning the two to incinerate within 5 feet of her. It had given them all quite a scare when the shelf that housed Ginny's yearbooks burst into flames, but it was worth it.

"Of course, of course. How, erm, are you feeling about it?"

"Well it's a little rude I think, but not unexpected," she shrugged, and Kingsley had to restrain his eyebrows from shooting up his forehead.

"I understand he's The Boy Who Conquered, and that it really is happy news for everyone, but you'd think they'd have the sense to wait until he actually _asks,_ you know? Graduation is still a long time away, so he can come up with some other plan, but I think we managed to keep word from reaching Gin well enough," she ambled conversationally, clearly grateful the topic of conversation had been changed from her parents.

"Not the newspapers, I mean you. How are you feeling about it?"

"How am I feeling…about him asking? I'm happy of course," she answered easily. "Why do you ask?"

" _Erm_ …"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, do _not_ tell me you've started, too!"

"I don't know what you mean," he tried, wondering it if would spare him any of her wrath.

"What I _mean_ is that at the end of this school year my _best friend_ will get engaged to another one of my _very close friends,_ and all anyone has been doing is giving me looks of sympathy!" Her face was flushed and her eyes flashing, and although he was worried for his safety, Kingsley found he was glad that she could still work herself up into a passion, something she seemed to be missing, as of late.

"Alright, alright," he retreated, pushing back from his desk and putting his hands up. "I believe you, I do," he said, stepping around and offering Hermione his hand to help her up, one she accepted, albeit with a scowl. "You can't blame me for worrying about you."

"Oh I can certainly blame you, Minister Shacklebolt, but your concern, however ill placed it may be, is appreciated."

"Wise as ever," Kingsley said, shaking his head. "Although, truly, if you need anyone to talk to about anything—"

"What, I'll come to you?" Hermione asked, eyebrow cocked. She did have a point. Accomplished Auror, Former Order member and now Minister of Magic, but Kingsley Shacklebolt still hadn't quite managed the delicate art of _talking about feelings_. "Although Miss Brown did say you were very kind to her, perhaps you'd like a repeat of that little incident."

Kingsley winced, recalling earlier in the month when Lavender Brown came into his office sobbing, he had almost had to floo Minerva before finally coaxing the situation out of her.

"I'd rather wrangle a Dementor," he confessed, earning him a slap on the arm. "What?"

"That's _awful_ , Kingsley, she had every reason to be upset! You've seen how those terrible women treat her, did you know one of them told her she wasn't fit for a war hero like Ron anyways because she was a Were-Person? Had she forgotten _how_ Lavender was bitten in the first place?"

 _This_ was definitely the Hermione he had come to know. It was no secret Lavender Brown was not her favorite person, but Hermione would defend her, anyways.

"The incident is being handled, I promise. Are those two alright?"

"Well, Lavender's been fine from what I've seen. I think Ron feels bad that it didn't work out, but it was amicable, certainly."

There was a lapse of silence and Hermione looked at the ground. Kingsley watched her swallow hard before pulling her into a swift hug.

"I mean it, Little One, if you need anything from me," he said sternly, hands still on her shoulder.

"You're just the wizard to cry to, I know. Thanks, Kings," she replied, hands coming up to squeeze the ones he put on her shoulder before gently removing them and walking off, leaving Kingsley to shake his head after her.

.oOo.

Hermione stomped out of her temporary office, her demure heels slamming against the floor like firecrackers and she swiped away the angry tears she had managed to contain until the end of her workday.

Despite her undying adoration for the Minister, she was _furious_. Furious at him for suggesting what she knew everyone else was thinking-"Lost Boy Wonder to the Weaslette, did you? Hope it wasn't because Potter's trying to clean up his family line. She might be a Pureblood but in terms of politics, a Blood Traitor won't help much" earned Zabini a particularly nasty hex, even though she knew he was _trying_ to offer her some sort of bizarre comfort (one that she did not need, thank you very much)—and furious at herself for not being more adamant in denying his accusations. Harry was her _best friend,_ nothing more! Sure, she could defend Lavender Brown, but when it came to speaking up for herself, Hermione was suddenly rendered mute.

She was beginning to think she was a masochist. To be looked and pitied as the girl who had given everything up for the Chosen One for nothing in return was something that brought bile to her throat, but wasn't that true, on some level? It was a little part of her that felt this way, but she suspected it was the very same part that wanted nothing more to reject helping Harry find the perfect ring for his perfect girl and his perfect wedding. Maybe masochist wasn't quite the word, but she certainly felt like she deserved this terrible feeling whenever she thought of how, in comparison to the utter joy that should be radiating out of her very core at the happy news, she could hardly muster a smile.

After landing in her flat through the floo, Hermione kicked off her shoes with a vengeance. She'd change, look over her project and then polish off the bottle of elven wine Harry had brought over to celebrate when he first told her of his plans.

Yes, if all went well, she'd hardly remember what a shite night it had been in the morning.

.oOo.

 **August 31** **st** **1999**

 **Hermione's Flat**

.oOo.

"Her- _mione_ , come on!" Harry exclaimed, trying to yank the book Hermione had tented on her head, hoping he would get the message. He sat on top of her desk—carefully situated around her work—trying to drag her out to The Leaky for one last night of freedom before they returned to school.

"Going back was your idea, anyways, how are you still possibly working on Ministry projects? Didn't Kings fire you ages ago?" He asked with a cheeky grin, earning him a swift swat with the tome Hermione was reading.

"Excuse you, I was _not_ fired—Harry, stop!" she exclaimed, wriggling away from him as he attempted to tickle her out of her chair.

"Is that so? Because I think being told to get the hell out of your office and into the sun sounds a bit like getting fired." Harry was clearly in a teasing mood, and despite how unappealing a round with the gang sounded, she didn't have the heart to turn him down. Harry was, like they all were, particularly haunted after everything, but with Ginny and the prospects of returning to his childhood home, he was in an infectiously good mood.

"You are _such_ a prat, Potter. We had better not be late for our first day back." As expected, Harry ignored her warnings and instead whooped in delight, throwing himself off her desk.

"You'd better get ready, then, everyone's already there and when I left Ron was one poor joke from taking your Zabini's head off."

"And you're telling me this now?" Hermione threw her arms up in exasperation, rushing into her room to find something to wear. "Besides, he's not _my_ Zabini. If anything, he's _yours._ Don't think I didn't hear about the fiasco at George's." Although Hermione had been the one to introduce Blaise to George for a business venture, he was quickly taken in as a reluctant friend of sorts.

"He's a right prat, but he sure knows how to party," Harry acquiesced, ambling around Hermione's study while he waited for her to get dressed.

"Good?" she asked, emerging fifteen minutes later in Muggle jeans and a flowy black top.

Harry grinned. "Because I can tell? You always look gorgeous to me."

"Harry James Potter, you've gotten me to come, there's no need to continue to flatter me," she scolded, taking his arm and allowing him to Apparate the both of them.

.oOo.

 **September 2** **nd** **, 1999**

 **Hogwarts**

.oOo.

Despite his muted views on blood purity, nobody could ever accuse Blaise Zabini of being anything but a Slytherin, so when The-Boy-Who-Draco-Never-Shut-Up-About approached him about a send off party for those going back to school, he was going to do it right. And by right, he meant dragging those idiots along to only the best bars in Wizarding and Muggle Britain before port keying them all to his Italian Villa. Sure, when they came to their senses, he'd probably receive a Howler or two, but even Granger wouldn't be able to stay mad when she remembered what a time he had treated them to. After all, the yacht was _all_ her idea. The past 24 hours alone, along with the embarrassing photos he had collected and the look on Professor McGonagall's face when he deposited her six favorite students at the gates of Hogwarts pissed out of their _minds_ was worth all of the vomit he had to clean up post-portkey.

"Minnie!" Ron had exclaimed, galloping towards the headmistress and throwing his arms around the aging Scot. "I've missed you!" he announced with a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

"Mr. Zabini, what is the meaning of this!?" McGonagall asked, trying not to fall over with Ron's weight while separating Harry and Ginny from each other. Blaise carefully hefted Luna off his side, sheparding them all inside the gates.

"Well, we were celebrating and things got a little out of hand," he grinned.

"Don't be mad, Minerva," Hermione slurred, smiling widely. "We've had the _best_ time, really."

"I can see that," the Headmistress replied, her lips pressed together sternly. Blaise suspected she was trying to reign in a smirk.

"Well, help me get them to bed, will you? I don't want to wake anyone else. Really, what were you thinking? It's almost two in the morning!"

"Gladly. And to be honest, I'd planned to have them back this morning with a killer headache at most, but your lions are quite the party animals."

"I don't know how well Miss Lovegood would take to being called a lion," she said, but as if to prove a point, Hermione jumped onto Neville's shoulders while Harry and Ron hit them with their wands.

"What are they even—" Minerva began to ask, cut off when Luna ran to her, yelling about a troll in the dungeon.

"They do that one a lot, actually. Considering all the shite they got into, you think they'd have a better bit to reenact."

From behind, Ginny hollered her agreement. "I like the dragon one, do we have any of those this year, Minnie? We had a Basilisk that almost _killed_ me, you know, why can't we have a dragon?"

"When you and Potter get married, he'll buy you all the dragons you could ever want," Blaise soothed, hoisting her into a piggy back up the path to the castle.

"D'ya hear that Harry, we're getting married! You had better propose to me with a dragon!"

In the end, they needed Hagrid to help get them all to their assorted dorms, and it took another ten minutes to convince a very tearful Ron to let Blaise go.

"What in Merlin's name did you even give them?" Minerva asked when they were all finally settled.

"Something George has been working on. They'll be fine when they wake up. Little cranky, but nothing lasting. Why, shall I put you down for a pre order?"

"You shall do nothing of the sort! If you weren't leaving the country at the end of the week, I would have your head for this little stunt."

"That's what I've been banking on, Headmistress," he said with a false politeness. Blaise had been given the option of returning to Hogwarts for his final year or serving his magical probation, which he had managed to weasel out of thus far. It wasn't anything terrible, just a year without magic, but it certainly wasn't something he intended to carry out on the Isles.

"For your own sake, I can only hope you have a most uneventful year, Mr. Zabini."

"I'd return the sentiment, Headmistress, but I wouldn't want to give you any false hope. Not with those idiots returning, anyways."

With one last flash of a handsome grin, Blaise disappeared into the green flames in the Headmistress' office, leaving a very tired Minerva McGonagall to agree with him privately.

Upstairs, Hermione Granger, still rather out of her wits, pulled out her notes on her latest project. In her sleep-depravation-induced-high, she was absolutely _certain_ she knew what was wrong with her last attempt, so she pulled out her wand, silently casting the intricate spell.

.oOo.

 _A/N-There's chapter one! Please leave a review, it's what sustains us writers, since y'all know (disclaimer) HP isn't mine and I'm not getting paid for this_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N- Unless a different POV is indicated, narration will refer to Hermione and Lily as who they actually are, not who they look like! If you're reading this chapter and wondering why Hermione handles things the way she does, she, like Lily, doesn't think the situation is real…yet ;)_

.oOo.

 **September 2** **nd** **, 1977**

 _[First Day of Classes]_

 **Hogwarts**

.oOo.

The next morning, Hermione shot out of bed, her shrill scream piercing through the otherwise peaceful morning. _This isn't my flat, this isn't my flat_ she thought over and over, grasping for her wand. Her heart rate soon calmed to a dull roaring in her ears, and she blinked, taking in the tell-tale four post bed. This…this was Hogwarts, but how in the world had she gotten here? The last thing she could remember was the beach and that manor and—oh.

" _I'm going to murder Zabini_ ," she thought viciously, wincing when she swung out of bed to face an open window. The sunlight streamed into the room, alighting the comfortable accommodations, and Hermione was entirely irritated.

She fell back onto her mattress with an audible groan, grateful all the 8th years were to be given their own rooms. Last night was coming back to her in flashes—Blaise had to keep her from doing _what_ on a yacht?—and it was only when she remembered they had missed their first day back that Hermione could muster the energy needed to get up.

She blindly groped through her bag when she heard a knock on her door.

"Lils, are you alright? I heard you screaming," she heard Harry call. It really must have been a rough night, because Harry never sounded so raspy and she certainly wasn't whoever "Lils" was.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," she called back, fingers wrapping around a little vial of Sober Up potion signed with Blaise's elegant scrawl. Harry was right. He really was a git, but he sure knew how to have a good time.

Knocking the vile tasting liquid back—was it usually so disgusting? That slimy Slytherin probably added something on purpose—she was relieved when her vision cleared and her pounding headache faded away.

"Have you seen the Potion he left—" she started, opening the door. Her voice died in her throat.

Standing in front of her was not _her_ Harry, but rather some funhouse mirror version of him. He was taller, lankier, with bigger ears and a more defined, crooked jaw that gave him a boyish charm.

"Gods Potter, what happened to you last night?" Hermione asked, squinting at his appearance. Harry brought his hand up to the side of his face self-consciously.

"Err, after the meeting with the Prefects?" He looked at her, his brown eyes wide—wait, brown? Considering he had just called her Lils, it wouldn't have taken a genius to figure it out, but it certainly took The Brightest Witch of Her Age to handle it with such grace.

"James?" she asked breathlessly, and the boy across from her nodded.

"I… yeah, that's me. We've got to get the first years to their classes, Wait for you in our Common Room?" he asked, and Hermione nodded mutely, shutting the door with no preamble before rushing to the bathroom.

Gripping the sink, Hermione barely managed to stifle her cry when instead of the familiar pools of honey brown, a pair of green eyes stared back at her from the mirror.

.oOo.

Hermione flew through her morning routine, eager to focus her attention on more important things. Once she was absolutely certain she wasn't locked in some terrible dream and she had spent a sufficient amount of time pacing back and forth while muttering under her breath, Hermione, as she always did, got down to business. Convinced James could fend off some first years on his own, she pulled out a quill and some parchment, outlining what she knew.

Two nights ago, Harry dragged her out. That became somewhat of a 24 hour party. In order to stop Harry from proposing preemptively, Hermione table danced. Blaise brought them to Hogwarts. Ron kissed McGonagall. Hagrid took them to their rooms. Ron may have kissed Blaise. She went to sleep and woke up as Head Girl Lily Evans? That didn't sound quite right. Maybe she had gone wandering and wound up opening a door to an alternate dimension. It really wasn't any more plausible than just waking up, but there were reports of the Castle doing weird(er) things after the reconstruction. She searched through the room, prowling for any sort of hint—a secret door, maybe?-when James was knocking on her door again.

"Look, I promise we'll just do our jobs, okay? No funny business, I swear it, please come out."

That was another issue, Hermione jotted down quickly. From the little she'd seen of him so far, James didn't seem like a man who had finally snagged the girl of his dreams. Weren't he and Lily supposed to be happily dating by now? Based on the stories she'd heard from Remus and Sirius, she expected James to have knocked down her door and carried her down to breakfast. Maybe they got into some sort of argument, but if so, how the hell was she supposed to act around him? She supposed she'd have to play It by ear.

"Sorry James, I'm not feeling too well, erm, girl things" she added quickly. If alternate-universe James was anything like Harry and Ron, that should do the trick.

"Oh! I, I could tell Headmaster Dumbledore or Minn-I mean, Professor McGonagall, if you want?" he stammered. She could hear his feet shuffle from outside the door.

"No, no, I'm just about done, one moment," she replied in alarm. The _last_ thing she needed was for McGonagall or Dumbledore to enquire of her. She needed to keep a low profile until she could figure out what exactly was going on. Throwing on the robes Lily kept in her wardrobe and carefully attaching her Head Girl pin, Hermione opened the door, flashing James what she hoped was a casual smile.

"C'mon then, don't want to keep them waiting any more than we have to," she said, brushing past him with a forced air of confidence. If she attended her seventh year, Hermione probably would have been Head Girl, and hadn't Sirius mentioned how alike she and Lily were? In comparison to fighting a Dark Lord, she could certainly handle playing a 17 year old, especially one she already knew a bit about. She'd just last the day, regroup tonight and be back home in time for Treacle Tarts. With a deep breath, Hermione walked through the doors of the Great Hall, greeting the room with a cheery, "Good morning!"

As those paying attention dutifully greeted the Head Girl, Hermione relaxed. She wasn't called The Brightest Witch of Her Age for nothing, right? This would be a breeze.

.oOo.

To be fair, things went fairly smoothly at first. She greeted first years, handed out schedules and made small talk with professors, being careful to avoid any mention of her summer and instead focusing on curriculum- _Hogwarts: A History_ never failed her. It wasn't until she had to sit down for breakfast that she realized the predicament she was in.

She scanned the Gryffindor table (James was still talking to some Hufflepuff so she couldn't sit with him) when she finally narrowed in on a familiar sandy mop.

"Remus!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around the unsuspecting Werewolf who had just gotten up to receive his schedule.

He stiffened before returning her hug awkwardly, and Hermione had to wonder what her mistake was. Even if Lily was having an argument with James, that shouldn't put her off all the Marauders, right? Theoretically, she hadn't seen them since the end of last year, why _wouldn't_ she be hugging them?

Of course, these considerations came later, because in the moment, all Hermione could think about was how wonderful it felt to be in the arms of her old professor again. She beamed up at him, willing the sob in her throat down and instead trying to channel her torrent of emotions into happiness, which was almost certainly more natural than bursting into tears.

"Hi, Lily," he said finally, his voice low and soft. "I hope you had a good summer."

She was saved from a reply when their conversation was interrupted by another familiar voice.

"I told you she'd fall for our charm eventually, mate, just took her nearly six years. Tell me, Evans, are you always this stubborn?"

Hermione barely had time to take in his appearance—clean shaven and baby faced, his hair up in a top knot while his eyes sparkled with a mischief that would die down considerably—before she launched herself at him, too.

"Sirius!" she exclaimed, her vocabulary reduced to nothing more than names in her haste to greet the younger versions of men she had loved. She took in his scent greedily, fists grabbing the dark fabric of his robes as, clearly delighted she was playing along for once, Sirius swung her around. When she did not screech for him to let go, Sirius exchanged a quizzical look with Remus, who shrugged.

"Alright there, Red? I know I'm irresistible but Prongs'll have my head if I keep his witch any longer. What's got you so affectionate, anyways?" Sirius asked, and Hermione cursed inwardly. Lily might have been with James, but maybe she and the Marauders didn't get close until they married?

"I'm not his witch, I'm not _anybody's_ witch you mongrel," she tried, imagining what a woman with six years of experience dealing with Sirius Black in his mischief making prime would say. "I just…I heard you lot got hurt." That was believable, wasn't it? Given their reputations, at least.

"You heard we were hurt?" Sirius asked dramatically, jumping onto the bench at the Gryffindor table. "If one measly pretend injury is all it takes to win your good graces, love, I would have started that rumor ages ago."

"Where'd you hear that, anyways?" Remus asked, and once again, Hermione was cursing herself. This really wasn't going well.

"From me," a Scottish accent rang out. She had long locks that were pulled up into a twist, dark eyes and an even darker complexion. "Why else haven't I heard from you since June, you prat?"

"Marlene!" Sirius sang, jumping down and dipping the girl down into a kiss which she calmly rejected. "You were worried about me?"

"More relieved, if anything. How are you, Lupin?" she asked conversationally, effectively giving Hermione a reprieve. Eventually, she turned back to Hermione.

"I'd ask you to sit with us, Evans, but I think Fortescue over there has been dying to see you. Congrats on Head Girl," she said before walking off to the Ravenclaw table, leaving a pretend-put out Sirius to pine in her direction.

Armed with a better idea of how she should be behaving, Hermione roused herself to face her former mentors again. "I'm glad you two are alright, but let's try to keep it that way, shall we? Merlin knows the poor Mediwitch has seen enough of the Marauders in the past six years to hold her over the last." It sounded suspiciously like the talk she had given Ron and Harry a few nights earlier.

Remus paled considerably at this comment, but not sure if Lily had officially been told about his ailment, she pretended not to notice.

"You underestimate us, Lily-Love, but we humbly thank you for your consideration into our well beings. Now, if you'll excuse me, we have a friend to find and a witch to woo," Sirius said, slinging his arm around Remus and sauntering off in Marlene's direction. At the thought of facing the rat, Hermione paled, and quickly sought out whoever the hell Fortescue could be.

.oOo.

As it turned out, Fortescue's first name was Alice, as in the soon to be Alice Longbottom. It was difficult, talking to her and Frank when she knew what grisly futures awaited them, but it was certainly easier than pretending to be indifferent towards Sirius and Remus, or even worse, friendly to _that rat._ James was still unsettlingly absent from her interactions, but that was one mess the real Lily could clean up when she got back to her own time. That did beg the question, of course, as to where Lily was, but those were implications Hermione simply did not have the brain power to consider. Right now, she was focused on lasting the day without crying or murdering for any reason. She knew what the dangers of messing with time were, and having just come out of a war, she wasn't looking to change anything and start a new one.

"Doing alright?" Alice whispered, leaning over Hermione's cauldron. There could be no better friend for a misplaced time traveler than Alice. She was considerate but not nosy, and she was an automatic partner in all the classes they had together. Potions was especially nice since Slughorn seemed to adore her, and said nothing when she and Alice bowed their heads and whispered instead of paying attention.

"Yeah, just thinking." Another bonus was the fact that Hermione could brew Strengthening Solution with her hands behind her back. Yes, Slughorn had said it was a warm up of sorts after the summer, but come on. They really weren't concerned about their NEWTs, forget the eminent war brewing.

"You're not thinking about _him_ , are you?" Alice asked, and Hermione realized she was caught. She couldn't help but watch Snape, or Severus, as Lily might have called him, from across the room, carefully stirring his cauldron while scribbling notes in his text. It was certainly a treat, watching the Half Blood Prince in action when he wasn't one wrong move away from lambasting you in front of all your friends. She wondered whether he had been branded yet. A part of her jumped to reach out to him, but another knew that his miserable lot in life was essential to Harry's success. _The Greater Good was the worst,_ she thought solemnly.

"Ah, I don't know. Do you think he looks different this year?" That'd be a good reason to stare at someone, right?

"He looks as sallow as he ever has, I suppose that's because most of his cronies have graduated." She turned to Hermione, and her expression softened. "He doesn't deserve your pity, he made his choice a long time ago," Alice said gently, and Hermione was reminded of her future son, Neville.

"You're right, as you always are," Hermione sighed, grinning when Alice bumped her shoulder with her own.

"It's our seventh year, Lils! You're Head Girl and Potter is finally off your arse, let's try to enjoy it."

Hermione almost dropped her stirring rod into her potion. " _What_ did you say?"

"That we should enjoy our last year? That you're Head Girl? That James and the motley crew have finally toned it down? Frankly I'm surprised you were so nice to those two this morning, but I suppose they _are_ pretty endearing when they aren't setting off fireworks to help Potter-the-Prat propose, eh?"

"I was just glad to see they made it back in one piece," Hermione huffed, and Alice sent her a sly grin.

"And you're sure that little display of maudlin affection had nothing to do with Romulus?"

At this point, Hermione's head was spinning.

"Little display…maudlin affection… _what_? You're _terrible!_ And we really need a better codename for him," she mumbled, knowing that it was probably as much subtlety as she would get in a time where people thought calling the werewolf _Moony_ was a good idea.

"So it is him, I knew it!" Alice said triumphantly, bottling her potion up and lofting it in the air like a trophy.

"It _isn't_ Alice, for Merlin's Sake!" James wasn't pursuing Lily anymore and Alice thought she liked Remus? This couldn't be good.

"It is and it has been, at least since fifth year. And don't you mean for Niviane's sake?"

"What?" Niviane as in the enchantress who tricked Merlin and then saved Arthur?

"You know, for the new SPEW initiative? Oh, I'd almost forgotten!" Alice exclaimed, rummaging through her bag as they left the classroom. "I've got those buttons made. They're not as good as your charms, but they'll have to do for now."

Alice placed one in Hermione's palm face down and wrapped her fingers around them quickly, as if she were bestowing her some grand, secret gift.

Without thinking, Hermione glared. "It's _S.P.E.W_., not SPEW!"

"Embrace the acronym, Evans, embrace it!" Alice called over her shoulder as she left to meet Frank.

Hermione watched the future Auror walk away, a bit flabbergasted by all that she had just found out. When Alice disappeared in the sea of black, swishing robes, she unclenched her fingers, lifting the button in the air. There, in cursive letters, was SPEW, or _Support the Publicity of Empowered Witches_. Above the letters, black and white sketches of influential witches throughout time flashed grins and opened their mouths to reveal the same speech bubble: "Do you SPEW?"

Unable to contain herself, Hermione dissolved into a fit of laughter. Perhaps she and Lily Evans were more alike than originally thought.

.oOo.

 _A/N- Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favorited! Any guesses as to what project Hermione was working on last chapter? If you comment with the correct answer, I ~may~ take a scenario request. Also, as a sidenote, I took some liberties with the appearances of minor characters, I think the movies had Marlene as a blonde?_

 _Let me know what you think! Your feedback is my bread and butter. Next chapter we get to see what the lovely Miss Lily is up to._

 _To Guest: I'm glad you like Blaise! He serves as a bit of a Jiminy Cricket to Hermione, if Jiminy Cricket was a Slytherin, anyways. Stay tuned for the proposal, though, because my lips are sealed._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N- Title S(witch)! Previously Across the Ages. I think this is much more fitting, do you? Also, lovely reviewer asked last chapter, thought it might be relevant to y'all. This story is canon ~compliant~! Mostly._

.oOo.

 **September 2** **nd** **, 1999**

 **Hogwarts**

.oOo.

If one more person asked for her autograph, Lily Evans was going to throw her goblet across the Great Hall. She denied everyone who asked, hoping that was the kind of thing Hermione Granger, apparent war heroine who was way too old to be attending Hogwarts, would do.

Lily had been working on her private project when she bungled something up. Apparently, whatever she did sent her to some alternate universe, or a very bad dream. All she had to do was get back to her notes and reverse it, but instead she was dragged about from class to class and admirer to admirer. She'd have to remind herself never to become famous when she woke up.

"You didn't forget to cast the Nargle repelling spells, did you?" the dreamy blonde Ravenclaw next to her asked, and Lily had to refrain from screaming in frustration. The day had been horrendous, from people inquiring about things she had no idea about, coursework she was certain was above her level and worst of all, everyone asking where a certain Ron and Harry were, neither of whom she had yet to actually meet. She did not have the patience to decipher the well-meaning Ravenclaw's riddles right now.

"Why do you ask?" she managed levelly after composing herself.

"Well they're the prime suspect when it comes to garbled brains, you know. That, and they're the only reason you'd willingly eat asparagus."

Lily dropped her fork in alarm. "I did forget those spells, didn't I?" she said with a hesitant laugh. Although she was mostly certain she was trapped in some bizarre dream sequence, blowing her cover would probably send her to dream-sequence Azkaban, or at least St. Mungo's, neither of which she really wanted to deal with.

"No matter, I'm sure our friends will be more than understanding."

It wasn't until they came down to sit that Lily began to panic. The redheads looked vaguely familiar, although she couldn't place why, but it was when James and Alice Junior rounded the corner that she began to feel faint.

"Mione!" the red headed girl exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind.

"Ah, hey…you!" Lily tried, patting the arms that had come around her neck. She managed to greet her and whom she assumed was her brother—who was exceedingly awkward around her—well enough before taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, trying to get a closer look at the two dark haired boys who were engrossed in a conversation with someone further down the table. In the mere moment she turned away to look at her plate, the boy of particular interest ran over, swinging a heavy arm onto her shoulders as he sat, causing her to practically choke.

She sputtered on her pumpkin juice while red head chastised him gently—where had she seen that before? Feeling like she was going to throw up, Lily gingerly put her fork down.

.oOo.

 _[Ginny's Pov]_

"Harry James Potter, you lot managed to survive a year out in the wilderness, don't you think death-by-choking is a little anticlimactic? I can hardly—Mione?" Ginny asked in alarm, the group quickly turning to where their bushy haired witch had fallen out of her seat in a dead faint.

.oOo.

 **September 2** **nd** **, 1977**

 **Hogwarts**

.oOo.

"Buggering _fuck"_ Hermione screamed, throwing herself onto the couch in the mini common room of the Head Suite. She had finally gotten a moment to herself after classes and shot up to Lily's room, hoping she'd be able to find whatever brought her to this twilight zone and use it to get the hell out of there. Of course, she could do no such thing because the room was locked and she didn't know Lily's password. She heard James mumble the password to the Portrait outside the suite earlier— _The Reign of Gryffindor_ was definitely his idea, she decided—but her own room? There wasn't even a portrait she could try and sweet talk. Just solid, spelled oak.

"Why didn't I think of this earlier?" she lamented aloud, completely beyond discretion at this point. She slumped forward, her head in her hands as she tried to control her breathing when something nudged her leg.

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice a bit sharper than she intended as she tried to spot the source of the distraction. Of course, until it hopped into her lap. Could it be?

"Crooks!" Hermione exclaimed, picking up the considerably younger, considerably less squashed faced kitten. How he grew to be so ugly, she had no idea (no wonder the older Sirius didn't recognize him), but the half-kneazle had a look of utter disdain for everything around him that Hermione had seen nowhere else. It was definitely her Crookshanks.

The cat in question came up as if to demand attention, but then stopped short of Lily's hand. It sniffed at her curiously and then snarled.

"Oh you clever beast, of course _you_ know I'm not Lily" Hermione crooned, scratching under his chin the way his older version liked. After a moment of hesitation, Crookshanks settled back into her lap, apparently trusting her like he would years later.

"So this is how you knew Sirius, huh?" she said to the bandy-legged cat. "How you knew the rat? Oh you wonderful thing, I should let you eat him now." Despite herself, she laughed at the idea of setting this relatively harmless looking kitten on him.

"You wouldn't happen to know how I got here, would you?" she asked, stroking its fur. When the cat did not look up, Hermione sighed. "What about my password, hmm? Could you tell me that?"

At this, the kitten jumped swiftly off her lap, his back claws digging into her legs as he lept away. He returned moments later, trotting proudly with a well-worn copy of _Macbeth_ in his mouth. It figures, of course. Hermione also had a verging on unhealthy obsession with the muggle rendering of witches in literature. She pet the cat on the head as a quick thanks and searched through the book, reciting underlined lines and circled names to her door.

"Hurlyburly?" she tried at last, one of the words she suspected Shakespeare made up and Lily had circled. Her door swung open and Hermione almost cried with relief. One step closer to getting home.

.oOo.

Hermione had been in the past—and yes, It seemed that she was in the actual past—for less than a day, and yet she was certain she had used more profanity in this 12 hours than she had her whole life. It appeared, she thought, pouring miserably over the notes Lily left on her desk, that this would not be an easy fix.

Previous to Harry dragging her out two nights back, Hermione had been working on one of her many projects under the Ministry, this one was of particular sensitive material. She was attempting, as many had before, to recreate the wards that Lily must have protected Harry with as a child. To the best of anyone's knowledge, Harry's survival had been a mix of ingenuity and pure dumb luck, but Hermione hedged her bets with the protection ritual that ended in Lily's sacrifice. In her post-party induced haze, she must have tried to cast them, and given the verging on dark nature of the stuff, ended up catapulting herself into the past.

At least, that was her theory, anyways, when she found Lily's notes lying inconspicuously on her desk. She appeared to be working through creating the wards for the first time. If they had both been working on the wards and they both messed something up, it was likely that they were both thrown out of their time, and needed to work from both angles to get home.

"Wonderful," Hermione said under her breath. "Let me just pick up my telephone and call 1999, ask if a dead woman has been walking around in my body."

It might take days to figure out how to contact Lily and then weeks to try and figure out their mistake, if she hadn't already gotten Hermione strapped to a table at St. Mungo's, of course. She groaned, face planting into her bed, allowing her part-kneazle kitten to nest comfortably in her hair.

What if she couldn't contact Lily, what if she had to live the rest of her life as Lily Evans and marry James and give birth to Harry and—no, she couldn't think about that. All things considered, it wasn't the worst case scenario. She'd been ready to give up her life for Harry— _the green eyed plague upon your house,_ as Blaise would call him—many times before, she'd do it again if she had to. Lily would do it, too. Maybe that's why the two of them had switched, something about them having the most love, being the most willing to sacrifice themselves for him? Love _was_ the primary source of power for the wards. Of course, if that were the case, wouldn't it be Ginny here and not her?

 _Then again Granger,_ a niggling voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Blaise again, _protection is about who loves him, not who he loves, isn't it? Which means, as always, it comes down to you._

"Shut up, Zabini!" Hermione said viciously. That snake wasn't even in the country anymore, technically he hadn't even been born, and he was still driving her mad. If Lily hadn't already gotten her future self strapped to a table at St. Mungos, this would certainly do the job.

The grandfather clock in her room chimed the hour, and Hermione sighed. She could work on her theories later, but for now, she had to figure out how she was going to play Lily.

.oOo.

By the time Hermione made it down to dinner, the Marauder's welcome back prank was in full force. The Great Hall had been transformed into an outdoor concert of sorts, the wizard version of holograms of a band that sounded suspiciously like the Beatles played behind where the Head Table _would_ be. All of the tables were replaced with picnic blankets that ran the length of the hall, students congregating around their respective cloths of blue, yellow, green and red, a shimmering silver for the professors. All in all, it was a charming little display of mischievousness.

"This seems too peaceful for them." Mary said suspiciously, sprawling out on her stomach on the charmed grass. "Too tame."

"Please, you think they did this by themselves? They definitely recruited some Hufflepuffs," Alice retorted, rolling her eyes. "And there's no way they'd stand for something as unsavory as their usual."

"Ravenclaws too," Mary said, gesturing towards the rolling clouds above them. "So that means no proposals," she laughed, Alice joining in.

"Lils?" Alice whispered, leaning over to where Hermione was deep in thought.

"Hmm? I'm sorry?"

"We were just saying that this is much nicer than the usual," Alice informed, a delicate frown forming on her face as she appraised the red head.

"I wouldn't oppose to this more often, it's just that I _am_ hungry and it seems like we're going to have to wait for this to play out for dinner." It really was rather enchanting work, but it wasn't as if she could enjoy it. The fleeting nature of the happiness of everyone around her left a rather sour taste in her mouth.

Eventually, Frank and Sirius came by, the former sweeping Alice into a dance while Sirius simply picked Mary up, lifting her onto the make-shift stage to declare his adoration for the witch through song. Through the fog in which she seemed to be watching the happenings, Hermione had to admit Sirius had an excellent voice.

"Care for a dance, Head Girl?" a familiar voice asked behind her and she was quickly hoisted to her feet by a grinning Remus Lupin.

"I'm not sure I'm any good," Hermione said before thinking, resisting the urge to hit herself on the forehead. What if Lily had been trained in ballet, or something?

"Maybe not, but I'm likely worse and you'll get a good laugh out of it." Ah, so Remus could tell she was upset. He would be the most perceptive of the bunch.

"I'm just not up for it, Lupin" she replied, pulling out a textbook from her bag. She was surprised when instead of being deterred, he plopped down next to her. Young Remus was certainly more bold than his older counterpart. He tore out grass by the fistful and placed it unceremoniously into her lap until she could no longer ignore him by pretending to read.

"You're ruining a perfectly good charm, you know," Hermione admonished, watching the wobbly mountain of green on her left knee shake as she spoke. Annoyance flushed her cheeks, and Remus laughed.

" _There_ she is," he said, taking his leave with a wink, leaving Hermione to squint after him.

.oOo.

"So," Mary whispered, leaning across the table conspiratorially with Hermione and Alice. "Why don't you think James danced with you?" The three had settled down for dinner after everything was put back in order.

Shite. Why _hadn't_ he danced with her? This would have been the perfect opportunity to sweep his Lily-Flower off her feet!

"Haven't you heard, Mary? Lily's finally warded him off. Only took him five and a half years, I think he gave up last winter."

"Well I know that's what he _said,_ but I didn't think he was serious."

"Do you think he's really done it? Moved on, anyways?" Hermione asked, hoping she sounded casual enough to not betray her rising anxiety about the issue.

"I think so," Alice replied. "I'd put my money on McKinnon before the years through."

"McKinnon!" Hermione exclaimed, unable to stop herself. Further down the table, the Marauders shot her a look, so she quickly settled back down. "I thought she was one of Sirius' girls," she whispered furiously.

At this, Alice laughed. "He just likes taking the piss with her. I heard she helped him with legal proceedings after his uncle, since his hag of a mum has him blacklisted anywhere reputable. Besides, you know she'd never touch him while he was with all those other girls anyways," she said, giving Mary a pointed look, who only shrugged with mock sheepishness.

"What can I say, he's got a big ego but the man can back it up." Alice promptly gagged and Mary rolled her eyes. "You were saying about Potter?"

"Oh right, its just, James has spent all his time pining after you…" she said, turning to face Hermione.

"So McKinnon won't have to worry about any secret trysts," Mary pieced together quickly. "Its madness, but you may just be right!"

"I don't know," Hermione cut in desperately.

"Oh stop it, this is no time for your crippling self-doubt, you're safe from Potter's advances, embrace it. Besides, if James goes for it, you can finally have a shot with Remus!" Alice said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Of course! There's no way he'd so much as breathe in your direction if James was still after you." Mary exclaimed, suddenly dropping her register to a teasing, sultry tone. "Loyalty is _so_ appealing in a man, don't you think? Did he make any moves on you?"

Hermione felt her cheeks flame.

"He did, didn't he!" Alice exclaimed, and Hermione figured telling the truth would be better than letting Alice run away with her imagination.

"Hardly, he asked me to dance," her companions faces lit up, "but I said no." The rejection left them undeterred, and they laughed and teased the way Ginny had when she found out Hermione was still writing Krum. She hoped Viktor wouldn't be too upset when she didn't reply to his owls right away. She hoped she could reply to them at all, for that matter.

"An almost dance with Remus Lupin!" Alice said wistfully. "Everything seems to be going your way, eh Head Girl?"

"You have no idea," Hermione replied with a moan, wondering how everything could be going so entirely, _spectacularly_ wrong.

.oOo.

 _ **IT'S MY BIRTHDAY YOU HAVE TO REVIEW!**_

 _Well you don't have to do anything but it'd be appreciated. And more motivation=faster chapter=happier you?_

 _[Guest: Well there's a bit more Remus for ya!] [Guest: Feminist Lily forever! I feel like Hermione was, as the brains of the Golden Trio, cheated out of working on causes she would rock out on, including SPEW!]_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N- Just as a reminder, if someone else's POV is indicated, we talk about Hermione and Lily through their eyes, and nobody else knows they're switched! When in doubt, check the date._

.oOo.

 **September 2** **nd** **, 1999**

.oOo.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief after finding that her sanctuary, the Hogwarts Library, had not changed much in the 20 or so years that had passed. Granted, she wasn't entirely sure she was in the actual future or if that spell had locked her into some hallucinatory coma, but Harry and Neville were pretty convincing evidence for the first scenario.

After coming back to her senses from her little fainting spell, Lily had quickly excused herself to the library. Apparently, this was typical behavior for Hermione, because after confirming she was alright, they laughed about how things were getting back to normal already. Normal, she suspected, was a relative term for them, but she wasn't here to analyze the psyche of a bunch of strangers. She was here to hopefully save her own.

The first thing she did was check out the most recent yearbook she could find. She already knew Harry's full name, but was Neville who she thought he was? Yes, there in black ink, Neville Fortescue Longbottom. Although almost every part of her was panicking—she really was in the future, wasn't she?— a little part of her was thrilled that her closest friends and her favorite couple had clearly made it. She wondered when Frank would ask Alice, would she get to be a bridesmaid? At that thought, Lily snorted. Wizarding weddings were nothing like Muggle ones, and if they were, she'd be the blasted Maid-of-Honor. If she ever wanted to make it to that wedding, though, she'd have to survive fooling their son, so she cast a surreptitious copying charm with the wand that looked like Granger's but felt like her own, and slid the original yearbook into her bag. Maybe she could owl Alice and Frank later, they'd know how to help her, surely.

The next matter of business was to figure out what was happening to the 1977-Lily while she was here. She skimmed the vast collection of yearbook once more, finally snatching up the one from what should have been her Seventh Year. It didn't take long to find her picture, and Lily breathed out a sigh of relief. That meant she hadn't dropped dead in her own timeline. Plus, senior portraits were usually taken fairly early, so that meant she'd probably be back in no time. Curious, she flipped through the pages, freezing when she landed on a photo from what was captioned as the first day of classes.

 _Holy Hecate_ , she whispered under her breath, and the old bookkeeper let out a scandalized gasp.

After whispering her apologies, Lily grabbed the yearbook and retreated further into the shelves, plucking a few of the more modern looking history books as she went. She finally settled in a particularly isolated alcove when a person she hadn't noticed cleared their throat.

"Malfoy!" she gasped, looking at the sullen blonde. He didn't carry the air of aristocracy that Lucius had in his time at school, but even a First Year would know a Malfoy when they saw one.

"Granger," he responded, looking down. After a moment of silence, Lily hoped she could get back to her research but the boy across from her inhaled sharply, hastily getting up.

" _Fuck,_ Granger. This—I'm…Let me get out of your way," he sputtered, and unable to contain her instincts, Lily reached out to the strange, wounded boy.

"You can stay if you like, I don't mind," she lied— _damn my niceness!-,_ covering his hand with her own. He looked at her with wild eyes and Lily suddenly wondered what this Hermione's blood status was. Granger wasn't a name she could recognize, so she was probably a Muggle-Born. Or an unimportant Half-Blood. Either way, she was probably sullying his porcelain skin with her peasant grasp. She let go of him quickly, but he didn't reprimand her for touching him or recoil with disgust. He simply looked at the space where her hand was before with a disbelieving expression before nodding to her once and disappearing.

"What a bizarre little man," Lily whispered to nobody in particular. She'd really have to read up more about this war when she got the chance, because whatever had a Malfoy looking like a wounded rabbit could not be insignificant. Grateful she could finally investigate in peace, she turned her attention back to the yearbook. She held her breath before flipping the hardcover book open again, not quite believing what she saw. There, just next to James Potter, was Lily, handing out schedules and bending down to answer a First Year's question.

"How is this even happening to me?" Lily moaned. She had read plenty of case studies where witches and wizards would fall into a coma and wake up claiming they had gone back in time, but there she was, clear as day! Picture Lily certainly did not look bedridden, but that meant unless her timeline had been frozen until she returned—unlikely, given Neville and Potter's son—Picture-Lily wasn't her!

The only feasible solution she could come up with was that Hermione Granger wasn't the product of some spell gone wrong, but rather a living, breathing person, one who was currently occupying her body and living out her Seventh Year.

.oOo.

 **September 3** **rd** **, 1977**

.oOo.

Hermione was currently snuggled within a duvet, flipping through the 1976-1977 yearbook she'd stolen from the library last night. Although the whole situation was still quite disorienting, research was something Hermione could do, and do well. She'd know everything there was to know about Lily Evans she could glean from print soon enough, the hard part was balancing that with trying to figure out how to quit being Lily in the first place. The name situation seemed a little more immediate, so Hermione spent the morning memorizing the Gryffindors first, before branching out to the Ravenclaws and then the Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins would come eventually, but flipping through the names of men who would go on to cause so much mayhem made her homicidal, and she'd already promised herself she wasn't going to kill anybody. Yet anyways. If Hermione discerned there was no feasible way to return to the future she was from, the first thing she was going to do was learn how to become an animagus so she could murder the rat in cold blood and chalk it up to instincts. But if she was right and Lily really was in her body, her future still existed and thus had to be preserved, lest they all wake up with The Dark Mark floating over Hogwarts, or something equally awful.

Out of habit, Hermione reached under her pillow for her journal in which she sometimes wrote to clear her thoughts. Realizing her mistake, she Accioed a piece of parchement instead, before considering something.

"Accio Lily's Journal," she tried, and just as she suspected, a leather-bound notebook came flying out of her shelf. Hermione debated for a moment, and then slipped the journal in her bag, all's fair in love and war, right? There was another hesitant knock on her door, just like the first morning, and after a moment, James called in.

"Are you feeling well this morning? I can handle breakfast if you're not," he asked, and Hermione steeled herself for the day. She would not, she would _not_ get upset when she had to talk to James or Remus or the rest of them. She had cried herself out last night, now was the time for action. _Are you a Gryffindor or not?_ She thought sternly to herself.

"I'm fine, thank you. If you wait for a moment we can walk down together!" She called.

"Oh, erm, alright then." Whatever had happened between James and Lily the year before really seemed to work in Lily's favor, because he seemed to be surprised she would want to spend time with him. Of course, that didn't help Hermione's case in the least.

"Why couldn't you two idiots just fall in love like you were supposed to," she scowled at her reflection, scrubbing her face a little too roughly. She'd have to give Lily a stern talking to if they ever figured out how to communicate. She quickly got ready and met James in their Common Room.

"Ready then?" she asked, still not used to the way her hair swung so easily when she walked. Lily certainly was pretty.

"Uh, yeah." He opened the door politely and the two walked down the halls together. It was uncomfortably silent, and Hermione resisted the urge to scream. This was not how a couple that would get engaged the night of graduation should be behaving!

"I liked that little bit you did last night at dinner," she tried, and James looked at her in shock.

"You did?"

"It was sweet! And everyone seemed to have a good time, I think. Were you lot trying to impress anyone in particular?"

"And if we were?"

"I'd say it was a job well done." Hermione wasn't sure she had a lot of experience with flirting, but she had certainly read enough and spent enough time with boys to know that her last comment combined with her little sideways look should have had James blushing. Instead, James grabbed her by the shoulders, whirling her around to face him.

"Merlin's Beard, Remus was right. You _are_ going soft."

"Excuse me?" What had she done wrong now?

"Shouldn't you be telling me that it was unfair of Sirius to put Mary on the spot like that?" Asking Mary out in the public eye like that with little way to reject Sirius' advances was rather rude, now that she thought about it. It was the kind of disrespect Lily Evans, Head Girl and SPEW Vice President, wouldn't have missed.

"Well it _was_ unfair, but I thought they had an understanding." That wasn't the right thing to say either, because James looked even more flabbergasted.

"Because that matters? Who doesn't he have an understanding with?"

"McKinnon," Hermione replied tersely, hoping the conversation wouldn't get too out of hand.

A curious expression passed across James' face, but he said nothing. Hermione wondered if she couldn't squash some of Alice's suspicions.

"They get along though, it seems like, when they're not taking the piss," Hermione tried hesitantly, regurgitating her friend's earlier opinions. "D'you think they'd ever work out for real?"

James' mouth twisted into a small frown, and Hermione felt her heart drop. Alice couldn't be right, _could she_? He was silent for a few moments before he responded.

"Marley's too smart to think she could make an honest man out of Sirius Black," he said plainly. "I'll start on the left and you on the right?"

Hermione merely nodded, James' little term of endearment for the stern Ravenclaw girl leaving her sick to her stomach.

.oOo.

While waiting for her friends to come down to breakfast, Hermione began to draw up a plan, marking the piece of parchment she was holding down the middle, the left side labled "Now" and the right labeled "Later." It wasn't her best work, she'd admit, but it wasn't like she could entitle it "How to Get Back to the Future Without Totally Bungling up the Past," too risky.

She was so engrossed in her thinking that she didn't notice when Alice and Mary came down to sit next to her, the latter snatching her list up in her hands. From what she could tell, Mary was a pretty witch with questionable morals, and thus appeared to be a particular favorite of Sirius Black.

"Another one of your lists, Lils? What's on your plate today?" Alice asked curiously. Alice was bright eyed and excitable and a fan of conspiracy theories which now revolved around schoolyard romances but might one day be honed under Mad-Eye's tutelage.

" _A way to communicate no matter where we are_ , trying to pass notes in class? That doesn't seem like fitting Head Girl behavior," Mary sing-songed.

"First Romulus and now this? Will the accusations never end?" Hermione lamented, trying to take their attention off the list. This was apparently a tactic they were familiar with. Being in a trio of girls was, in ways she continued to learn, fundamentally different than with Ron and Harry. "If you must know, it's for my parents," Hermione lied quickly, and Alice and Mary stopped their teasing.

"It's been scary, I bet, with all the attacks," Alice said, placing a soothing hand on Hermione's. Mary, however, looked deep in thought.

"I've got it! The Marauders have these charmed little mirrors, I'll see if I can't get them for you."

Ah, how could she have forgotten about those? If Hermione could hide one somewhere Lily would find 20 years later, maybe it'd work! Come to think of it, there were a lot of things the Marauders had that would come in handy. She'd have to nick the map, at some point.

"It's not as though they're just going to give it to us though, you know how they are with their toys," Alice sighed. "Maybe you can look past some of their transgressions as a trade?"

Before Hermione had to consider how Lily Evans would respond to such a proposition, she was interrupted by her blonde friend.

"Oh please, a trade off on the rules? So uncouth."

"And how do you suggest we get them to hand it over, Miss Confident?" Alice shot back.

"Oh," Mary replied airily, casually tossing her fair hair over her shoulder while casting Sirius a sidelong glance. "I can think of a couple ways. Bet on it?"

"Fine. If you don't have the mirrors in a week—"

"A week? Alice, you underestimate me. If I don't have the mirrors to you by breakfast tomorrow, I'll ask Severus Snape to Hogsmeade. If I do, you can." Mary said, vanishing the rest of her breakfast. "I'll see you in History?"

Alice let out a low whistle, watching Mary saunter out of the Great Hall.

"She's barking mad, but I can't get enough of it. Can you imagine the look on his face?"

Thinking of her ever sour Potions professor, Hermione couldn't hold back a laugh. "I really, truly, couldn't even begin to imagine."

"What _I_ can't imagine, actually" Alice said, dropping her voice to barely above a whisper, " is why the only thing on your 'Now' side of the list said _figure out James and Marley,_ but let's work on one task at a time, shall we?"

.oOo.

 **September 3** **rd** **, 1999**

 _[Harry's POV]_

.oOo.

Harry Potter paced back and forth. He hadn't seen Hermione since she ran off to the library yesterday and she hadn't been in any of her classes, either. He wasn't foolish enough to think that coming back to Hogwarts was going to be a piece of cake, but missing class meant she must be miserable. Although, he supposed her habits as a fastidious student before the war couldn't necessarily be counted on now. He teetered between wanting to seek her out and giving her space, but it was Ron's longing expression towards her door that finally sent him knocking at room she was staying in by the Kitchens. It wasn't that Ron didn't adore her, he just wasn't always the most sensitive bloke.

"'Mione," he called gently, armed with a tray of dinner from Winky. "Can I come in?" He heard shuffling steps and she opened the door a fraction.

"Harry," she breathed out shakily, before opening the door and letting him in. He was shocked by the state of things. She was wrapped up in her bathrobe and there were tissues and open books on every flat surface of the room. She padded back to the nest of blankets she had made in her bed, and Harry put the tray on her bedside table, gingerly sitting next to her. He was silent for a moment before he spotted a copy of _The Trials and Tribulations of the Golden Trio: An Unauthorized Account of the Second Wizarding War_ by Rita Skeeter.

"What are you reading this shite for," Harry asked, perhaps too harshly, snatching the hardcover.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I had to know-had to remember," Hermione warbled, and Harry sighed, sweeping the distraught witch into her arms. She looked so young, so unlike her usual self.

"I know what you mean," he said, arms tight around her shaking frame. "It's strange being here, during dinner I kept thinking Colin should be sitting with the Seventh Years and Gin but," his voice caught and he stopped. "He was so brave," he managed finally.

Hermione turned around, placing a cool hand on the side of his face. "You were so, so brave, Harry. You shouldn't—"

"None of us should have, but we did." After a moments more of silence, Harry covered his hand with her own, threading their fingers and bringing them down into her lap. "You know I couldn't have done it without you, Mi."

"But you did, didn't you?" she asked with a watery grimace, and Harry furrowed his brow.

"Just because I didn't let you come with me to meet that monster does not mean you weren't with me until the end. You can't really think that, can you? I think your hunger has made you delirious," Harry said, reaching for the platter and placing it in her lap.

"You might be right, I—ugh, I don't know what's come over me," Hermione said, furiously swiping away her tears and sniffling hard. Harry gathered her hair up away from her face carefully, charming it into a bun.

"Nothing you should be embarrassed about. Do you want to talk about it, or?" he asked one of his oldest friends, knowing full well that a discussion of all her feelings wasn't always what she needed. Sometimes it was just a friendly presence, something Ron handled most of the time after he and Ginny got serious. But Hermione and Ron were on and off, perhaps they had been neglecting her.

"No, I mean, I think it was just everything at once, you know? Needed a bit of a cry."

"Hermione Granger missing all of her classes doesn't sound like a bit of a cry, but I think we can make an exception. Missing dinner, however," he said in a fake admonishing tone, deciding that a bit of humor was what she needed, "is entirely unacceptable. I may have to take points."

"I don't know if I can stomach it," Hermione groaned, looking peakish as she stared at the forkful of mashed potatoes Harry was offering her.

"Well I haven't had dinner yet either and I'm not going to eat until you do. It's hardly good form."

"I suppose I've got to eat now, if I'm taking care of your best interests," Hermione laughed, wrenching the fork free from Harry's grasp and eating the potatoes.

"You always have, you know. You're probably stuck with me 'til the day you die, if you'll have me so long, anyways." Harry said, leaning in to press a kiss into her hair, stilled when Hermione took his face in her hands once more. Hermione wasn't a cold person, but he couldn't remember the last time she was so tactile.

"Even after," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

She reached up gently and brushed his unruly hair off of his face, fingers tracing the now innocuous scar.

"Even after," she repeated, her eyes curiously far away. "I'll look after you 'til the day I die, and even after."

.oOo.

 _A/N- Thank you for the reviews/follows/favs! The support is so lovely._

 _Next up we have a bit more of Hermione and Lily before they figure out how to communicate. Both of them are struggling in their own way, but Lily definitely gets the worse end of the stick and you'll see that play out with how she behaves._

 _Please leave a review! I love hearing what you guys have to say about my lil story. Any suggestions as to how Lily and Hermione take certain things?_

 _[NatNicole: YOU'RE awesome!] [Guest: Thank you for the birthday wish! There are a ton of things I'm trying to work out, especially with the way the war plays into how Hermione acts versus Lily, I hope I don't disappoint! Any suggestions would be more than welcome.] [Guest: Thank you!] [Guest: Hermione and Lupin have an interesting relationship because Lily and Lupin do, one she is trying to figure out fast!]_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N- It occurred to me that I should have been watching the days of the week when I started writing this (I was not), so forgive me for the continuity error and from now on I'll have the correct days included! Thanks_

.oOo.

 **Sunday, September 4** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

Hermione smoothed out her skirt, trying to calm her heartbeat as Mary looked through her closet that morning, holding sweaters and dresses up to her similar frame. Hermione had been tied to the bottom of the Great Lake, but girl talk with someone as put together as Mary seemed far more intimidating. She wished she had taken Lavender and Parvati up on their boy talk weekend clothes swaps, but at the time, Hermione had wrinkled her nose and gone to find Harry and Ron. Of course, when she was old enough to overcome what the SPEW pamphlets defined as internal misogyny, Hermione didn't have the time to reach out and make any more friends than those already in her circle. Being thrown into another world certainly solved that problem.

"Look Lils, I know and you know that Alice is never going to ask you, but if you don't explain the other side of your list sometime soon she's going to have mapped out everything from your first kiss to your children's names."

"Sweet Circe, will she?" Hermione was right in her first assessment when she thought Alice wasn't nosy, but she was scheming, which might even be worse. In the case of _"James and Marley,"_ however, that might be an asset.

"Do you _remember_ what she did when she realized—oh, you kept this?" Mary asked, pulling out a ratty green jumper that looked no more important than any of the others.

"I—yes?" Hermione tried, surprised by the blush that rose to Mary's cheeks. She cleared her throat and went on.

"Well, I'm borrowing this," she said, pulling out a cardigan and folding it over her arm. They heard Crookshanks hiss and Alice swear as she let herself into the suite, rattling off Lily's password shortly after.

"Ladies," Alice said, eyeing the lumpy jumper Mary asked Hermione about. "To the Common Room?"

To hang out with even more people who knew Lily intimately? Maybe not.

"Ah, I don't know, I'm comfortable here, aren't you?"

"Come on Head Girl, you haven't been _once_ yet, it hardly feels like Gryffindor without at least one redhead," Mary said, "Longbottom's gotten cocky with the chessboard now that you aren't whooping his arse every night."

Uh oh. Hermione was _terrible_ at chess. "Surely he can find someone else to play?"

"Well, Pettigrew could beat us all with his eyes closed, but he hasn't played in _forever._ Haven't seen him a lot, actually.Guess it's not much fun if you know you're always going to win."

Hermione had to keep from gagging. So far, she had been lucky enough to avoid the rat, but now she had to sit with him? Acknowledge that he had a name, had friends and wasn't completely hated? She hated to think that he had any skills whatsoever, but _of course_ it would be a game of strategy, a man who betrayed his best friends didn't do it because he thought he would lose.

"He certainly knows how to come out on top," she remarked wryly, placating her murderous urges with the thought of his demise: death by self-strangulation.

Alice and Mary both looked at her with looks of concern, clearly picking up on Hermione's discomfort.

"Lils," Alice started, "did something happen with Peter?"

"What?" Hermione asked, a little too loudly. "No, of course not." Although she was curious as to why that was the first thing Alice would ask, this was not road Hermione trusted herself to go down carefully. Better to deflect. "I just uh, I wanted to talk to you about ah, Potter and McKinnon.

Alice's frown disappeared immediately, and Mary looked self-satisfied. "Finally!" Alice sang, flopping onto Lily's bed. "I thought you'd never bring it up."

"It's barely been a day" Hermione laughed.

"Plenty of time to confess your undying love, if you want to pull a Potter," Mary commented, and the girls rolled their eyes.

"So, do you think I, uh, have a chance?" Hermione asked, trying not to think about how weird this whole situation was.

"Are you _kidding?_ Of _course_ you do. You two work together, you're in the perfect position to make a good impression. Potter doesn't stand a chance." Alice went on to highlight Lily's apparently limitless good qualities.

"…don't you think, Mary?" Alice finished, gesturing towards her friend.

The blonde leaned against the door, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. "I think anyone would be an idiot not to like you Lily."

"It's always hard to tell with those Ravenclaws, they don't really date so honestly I have no idea if she swings your way but if she does, Potter isn't any competition because it's mostly Black trying to play matchmaker and—"

Wait, _what?_ They thought Potter was competition? They thought Lily was interested in _Marlene?_ She thought back to Lily's journal. How could she not have seen it earlier?

It appeared that no matter how book smart she may be, Hermione Granger was not one to read between the lines.

.oOo.

 **Saturday, September 4** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

The next afternoon, Lily woke up to a loud thud. She groaned and leaned out of bed to see Harry's limbs tangled up in a sheet on the floor.

"Did you sleep here last night?" Lily asked groggily, eyeing the armchair by the bed.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty," he mumbled into the floorboards, in no rush to get up.

"It's half past noon and I'm hardly a beauty right now."

"Details, details," he sighed, rolling onto his back and looking up at Lily. Despite all of the physical similarities, the unruly hair, the pronounced laugh lines, even the way they talked, Lily could not see this boy—man—as James' child. He was too kind, too calm to be half of the very bane of her existence. Frankly, she couldn't see him as half hers either, and looking at eyes that were so familiar to her own had her feeling quite ill. She needed to get out of there, and fast.

"Go on, won't Ginny mind that you spent the night?" Lily asked, gently kicking at his unmoving form.

"Gin? Of course not, and even if she did, she'd find something new to be mad at me about sooner or later. That Weasley temper, you know," he said with a lazy wink, and Lily looked at him scandalized.

"You shouldn't talk about her that way, she's your girlfriend!"

"Soon to be fiancée, hopefully, and then wife. Don't you think I should come to terms with it now?"

That little declaration, of course, had been more than enough to rouse Lily out of bed. Once she got rid of Harry, she hightailed it to the One Eyed Witch and out of Hogwarts. She wasn't a fan of day drinking, but considering the son she didn't know she had with a man she didn't love had just said he was getting married, she figured she could make an exception.

Fortunately, it appeared that war heroes were given a pass on this social taboo, because the Hogs Head served her with no complaints. She sat at the counter twisting in her seat when she recognized a familiar face from across the bar.

"Ronald," she greeted wearily, thinking of little William Weasley, who wasn't even old enough for a wand back home.

"Hi 'Mione," he said, his body tensing as if expecting some sort of impact. She supposed Hermione Granger wasn't one for drowning her sorrows at seedy pubs. Luckily, Lily Evans, on the other hand, had no such reservations. When Lily didn't follow up his greeting with an admonition, he looked at her in shock, and then something else.

"How are you?" Ron asked, scooching over to sit next to her.

"Horrid, but you look like right shite, too," Lily answered honestly, and Ron barked out a hoarse laugh.

"Never been one to spare my feelings, eh?"

"I suppose not," she replied, taking a swig of Ogden's Finest. Would he not get the hint that she was just not up to playing Granger right now?

Ron was silent for a few moments, nursing his glass.

"You know the twins would be having a right field day if they saw us like this, drinking in the middle of the day, or Percy, Merlin," he said, laughing a bit. Lily thought of her only sibling Petunia and snorted.

"I know what you mean. To family," she said, tipping her glass in his direction before knocking it back.

"To family," he reciprocated. He was silent a moments more before clearing his throat. "Are you any closer to getting them back?" he asked, and she choked on her drink.

"Excuse me?" Getting who back? There's no way Ron could have figured her out so quickly.

"Your family? I know you mentioned a potion…" he trailed off. Ah right, Hermione's parents, who, according to various news clippings Lily had tracked down, were still missing and Obliviated.

"I don't know if I'll get back to them in time, honestly. They could already be dead, I wouldn't know," she answered candidly. Lily had, for all her research, not been able to track down her own parents' death dates, but she knew they had to have passed before Harry was born for him to go to Petunia and the horrid bloke she was dating.

"You will, if anyone can do it, it's Hermione fucking Granger, Brightest Witch of her Age."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Lily replied, and Ron simply sighed. "How are you holding up?" she asked, trying to deflect. Ron lost a sibling in the war, she recalled from her reading, although she couldn't remember which one. "It must be strange to be back."

"Alright, I suppose. Worried about Mum, mostly. Being back is good for me though, you were right. Had to get out of that house," he shuddered. "Some fifth year asked Gin about the wedding this morning and I just split."

"Potter was practically pissing rainbows this morning," Lily replied. "It's intolerable."

Ron laughed again, this time more genuinely. "We're rotten friends, aren't we?"

"The worst."

Lily jiggled her legs, her shoes making clicking noises against the rungs on her stool until Ron shot her a look.

"Sorry, I've been having trouble staying still."

"Why?" he asked, and Lily sighed, realizing this must be one of Hermione's tells.

"I just, I feel like I can't do anything for them, for any of them, but I want to but it's all in the past." She tried to string together. "It doesn't make much sense."

"I think it does," Ron replied, sliding Lily's glass away from her when she made to reach for the Ogden's again. "But it's like you always tell me, I think."

"And what do I always tell you?" Lily asked flatly, eliciting an offended look from Ron.

"I do listen to you sometimes, you know," he exclaimed. "Always going on about how the more you learn, the more you know, the more you can do, or some shite. I fell for it, too, since I'm back at school, anyways." He sounded indignant and annoyed but there was definitely respect somewhere in there too, and Lily couldn't help but smile.

"Fell for it? Are you calling me a liar?"

"Of course not, Mione, I'm calling myself a fool," he said, getting up and gesturing towards the door. "Come on, there must be some book in this village you haven't read yet, then you can learn more and know more and do more, yeah?"

For the first time in days, Lily felt a flicker of hope. She was in the _future_ , there must be something she could learn how to do to fix the abysmal state of things while she figured out how to get home.

"And if I've already read them all?" she grinned.

"A book I haven't read yet, then. With George away and Gin over the moon, I haven't had anyone knock me down a few pegs in _ages,_ you'll be doing the public a service." Ron replied, offering his hand to help her up. He seemed surprised when she laughed and held on to it, and Lily made a mental note; apparently Hermione wasn't the most affectionate person.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a fool. A shite friend, maybe, but so am I." Lily said, knocking him with one of her shoulders instead. Maybe roughhousing was more up Hermione's alley? Ron looked even more surprised, but shot her a strained smile.

"Well, you'd be the first, I think," Ron replied, a hint of bitterness creeping back into his voice. Lily looked at him curiously. He wasn't as charming as Harry or as kind as Neville seemed to be, but still, there was…something. Something about this Ron Weasley that made her very glad Harry had him by his side, but more importantly, that Hermione was friends with him too.

.oOo.

 **Monday, September 5** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

Mary was excused from the dare because she had spent so much of her time window grilling Hermione, along with Alice, about her interest in James. Apparently, Hermione had fended them off well enough, because the two grudgingly accepted her new infatuation and pledged to be her wing-women.

"It's not McKinnon that's going to be a real issue for you, it's Black," Alice said.

"Sirius, why?"

"Because you spent the better part of the last few years breaking his best friend's heart? Black respects you, Lils, and he likes us well enough, but the Marauders don't want you anywhere near Potter, in that way, anyways," Mary explained, as if it were obvious.

"So? That never stopped him before, did it?"

Alice looked at Hermione in distaste. "I'm assuming you want to genuinely get to know him and vice versa, not have him blindly adore you like last time around. Unless you're just trying to shag him; in which case, go for it."

"I am not trying to _shag_ him Alice, I really do think there's something." If Lily really was in her body, she certainly had the easier job of dealing with Harry and Ron.

"Then get to know his friends, Lily! Do you think I would have given Frank the time of day if you two didn't like him as much as you do? What about if you were actively advising me against him? On top of years of rejection?"

"Besides," Mary added, "if you get to know Black better and you can't see yourselves being _actual_ friends, there's no way you'd survive a relationship with Potter. Romulus, maybe, but Black and Potter are attached at the hip."

"Alright, alright, I get it. Try to get Black to like me so he won't tell Potter to head for the hills."

Mary and Alice both shot Hermione a look.

"What?"

"Lily, we're not saying you should schmooze so Black writes you a letter of recommendation, we're saying you should genuinely try to see if you fit into Potter's life! Goodness, I know you've never been the one pursuing but you sound like a terrible teen novel," Alice exclaimed.

Hermione sighed, thinking about how bad YA romances were actually the only basis of comparison she had to "getting the guy," a notion Mary and Alice clearly didn't believe in. She was really out of her element.

"Unless, again, you're only trying to shag him" Mary sing-songed. "And speaking of shagging, DADA's about to start and I heard Professor Prewett is _pissed_. What I'd do to make that man scream…"

.oOo.

Of particular interest to Hermione was the handsome new DADA professor with nasty tattoos and nastier scars to boot. Professor Gideon Prewett, Ron's uncle, she recognized, was rumored to be stationed at the school as a punishment for some sort of Auror offense nobody could agree on.

"I'd put my Galleons on him stepping around some of those new interrogation laws, some of them were necessary, of course, but they're really tying the Aurors' hands up," Alice theorized, "did you know they need a Level Two clearance for Vertiserum now? That can take weeks!"

"And you know this because?" Mary asked, drawing out the last word and rolling her eyes. "I don't know why you didn't end up with one of the Marauders, Frank is far too sensible for your nonsense," she teased, and Alice looked scandalized.

"Hey, I can hardly be anything less than a conspiracy theorist after so much time with Lady Augusta. And the Marauders, Son of Ceridwen, why would you insult me like that?" Alice asked, and Hermione made another mental note. The Marauders, while well liked, were not quite as popular as Remus and Sirius made them out to be. As individuals, they did _more_ than well, but put them in a group and suddenly every girl in a 5 kilo radius was rolling her eyes in an exasperated fondness, at best. She suspected it had to do mostly with the fact that they called themselves anything at all. It was the equivalent of Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean taking up arms and calling themselves the Artful Dodgers. She snorted at the thought.

"Are you coming, Lils?" Alice asked, and Hermione hastened towards the classroom. Alice quickly sat down next to Mary, leaving Hermione to fend for herself. Alice gestured towards where the Marauders usually sat (they were usually late and the rat, thank goodness, was not in Advanced DADA). Hermione huffed but did as she was told, sitting down next to Sirius' seat.

"Lily-Flower, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Sirius cried as he walked in, moving to switch seats with Remus.

"No need to move, Black, those two are partnered up already and I was hoping you wouldn't mind." Hermione said, trying to seem nonchalant about it. Lily Evans wouldn't be nervous sitting next to anybody, she scolded herself. "Unless you don't think you can handle me as a partner, we're supposed to start practicals today."

"Handle you? I wouldn't dream of it, Red. Considering I rather like my anatomy, I'll let Moony be the one to defend his against your hexes," said Sirius, jerking his head towards Remus, who sat down next to Hermione with a polite "Evans."

Once settled, Remus shot her a mischievous grin, leaning towards her. "You know," he whispered conspiratorially, "this _is_ our first round of practicals, nobody would notice if you were a bit out of practice."

"What?" Hermione asked, trying not to be distracted by how her senses were now on high alert as his body angled towards her.

"I mean, you could probably chalk up another bollocks freezing hex to being an accident, if you want to keep the tradition going," he said. "You know, if your aim was a bit off." He jerked his head in Sirius' direction before turning his attention to a livid Professor Prewett who had just stomped in. She could have _sworn_ Remus sent her a surreptitious wink before opening his textbook.

Perhaps her aim was off in more ways than one.

.oOo.

 _A/N- A chapter all about personal relationships! I got a few questions about how certain relationships would proceed so hopefully this was a bit more lighthearted after last chapter! Will get back to more of the adventure through time-y serious side soon, but laying some seeds…_

 _Please review! They honestly make my day. I love reading your thoughts on my lil story! Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows so far_

 _[Guest: Thank you so much!] [Zabini's Girl: Wow! Thank you so much for all your feedback. No promises with Blaise, but I really like him too… ;). Hermione isn't exactly pining, which comes up soon. Stay tuned for more Hermione floundering in social situations, it'll be fun, I promise.] [Ai Yaah: Would you stop using that my goodness! You're the worst. Thanks for the feedback. Luh you.] [2 lazy 2 log in: Awh, thank you so much!]_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N- I think I'm going to go Lily-Hermione-Lily or vice versa per chapter. Last one was Hermione heavy, and this one is more Lily. Hasn't been past a beta so typos on me, y'all. It's a long chapter, too. [7/20-Typo found, she talks to Padma, not Parvati :)]_

 _You may have noticed a new character under the tags...any guesses as to what he'll be involved in?_

.oOo.

 **Thursday, September 16** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

Lily woke at an hour Hermione would find ungodly, pulled on a jumper, and went for a jog around the Great Lake. Professor McGonagall, whom she had run into that morning, had made it perfectly clear that this was not typical behavior for Hermione. Lily found she simply didn't care. As long as she could keep herself out of St. Mungo's, she didn't give a rat's arse about what Hermione Granger would and would not do, life as she knew it was on the line and Lily needed to keep herself sane. She stopped to catch her breath around the rocks where she and Mary had watched as Alice got high for the first time and mapped out a flaw in Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration with a stick in the dirt. They had promptly banned her from all Muggle substances, much to her chagrin, afraid that she would unearth how to conjure food out of air and then they'd have to explain how she'd done it.

She missed her friends, excitable Alice and overconfident Mary. Alice would have been thrilled to finally get a chance to flex her theories and Mary wouldn't have entertained this nightmare for a moment before stealing some prophecy from the Department of Mysteries and demanding they find her a way home. It had been almost than two weeks from when she first realized what kind of future she had been transported into, and she was crippled with bouts of despair and lethargy. Exercise would help, Granger be damned.

"Hermione?" she heard an incredulous voice call out, and she shot up to her feet, calming when she spotted the now familiar mop of red hair. Although Lily had been doing her best to avoid almost everyone, she found that Ron wasn't exactly an unwelcome face. He wasn't Mary or Alice, but he was better than Harry, with whom Lily alternated between wanting to cling to and wanting to run away from as fast as possible.

"Ron," she said as he stopped, panting. His face was flushed and he was sporting a blush not unlike his hair. "What brings you out here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised. Lily supposed an early morning jog _really_ wasn't Hermione's forte.

"Helps get my mind off of things," she said ambiguously. As morbid as it sounded, the fact that Hermione had just come out of a war was exceedingly convenient for Lily, surviving that kind of trauma was a handy explanation for when she was caught out of character.

"Oh," he answered, shifting his weight on his legs. He looked exceedingly uncomfortable for a moment. "Reckon you'd want to talk about it?"

Lily smiled indulgently. Ron, as she read in Hermione's very detailed diary—really, who had that many feelings to write about?—was not the best with emotions, but he was trying and he clearly cared about Hermione.

"No, just the usual, I think." Ron let out a breath of air he had been holding, and Lily raised an eyebrow.

"What, does talking about my feelings sound so horrid?" If she were Hermione, of course, and had to put up with years of this nonsense, she suspected it wouldn't be so endearing to her, but maybe it was the endorphins putting her in a good humor.

"What? Of course not, 'Mione! I wouldn't—I just…I don't want to overstep, you know? Maybe Harry…"

Harry? Lily frowned. As far as she could tell, Hermione, Ron and Harry were a package deal. Of course, there was the tiny issue of Hermione's on again off again romantic feelings with the youngest Weasley boy (a really very detailed diary), but they were still friends right? And even if they weren't, if Harry was the only person Lily could talk to, she was going to go mad. She suspected there was something else to his insecurity, but Lily decided to ignore it in favor of her sanity.

"We've both got Harry and considering he's about to get married, it'd be nice if I could count on having you, too."

Ron blinked, looking shocked for a moment, and then broke out into a wide grin. "Yeah, of course. Why don't we, erm, finish up together?" he asked, gesturing towards the beaten trail. "If you don't mind."

Lily paused, considering. She had spent most of her time buried in research, and while she enjoyed it as much as the next swot, her isolation was letting her wallow.

"Come on, then," she said, gesturing ahead of her. "We'll do a lap and head back for breakfast? Winner gets the last of the sausage."

Ron nodded. "Shall I give you a head start?" he asked, and at Lily's scowl, he put up his hands in surrender. "Kidding, I'm kidding." he added hastily, and Lily waved her wand to set up a temporary timer, counting down from five.

When it reached zero, Ron took off, and Lily turned around and hightailed it towards the castle.

"What, 'Mione, wait up!" Ron called from behind when he realized he was not, in fact, outrunning her.

"I thought you were giving me a head start!" she yelled back, and Ron laughed, his hurried footsteps following after her.

.oOo.

Lily knew enough shortcuts so that she was comfortably seated for breakfast by the time Ron burst into the Great Hall. Eyeing Lily in his seat, he almost bowled over a fourth year Hufflepuff, snagging her fork before she could bring it to her mouth.

"You…cheated!" he heaved, moving her over easily before sitting in front of her plate, on which she had only put sausage to spite him.

Lily shot him a smug smile which Ron made to return, but as if he had suddenly remembered himself, he pulled away from her, clearing his throat. He began to say something, but they were interrupted by a jovial Harry and a smug looking Ginny. Lily shuddered, trying not to think of what those two were up to that morning.

"Good morning!" Harry beamed, pouring himself orange juice. He seemed particularly pleased that Lily and Ron were sitting together.

"What have you two been up to," Ginny asked with a smirk, eyeing their flushed faces and heaving chests.

"Nothing!" Ron exclaimed a little too loudly. "We went out for a run, is all."

"Warming up for Quidditch?" Ginny asked, and Lily noted the way Ron's face darkened.

"Maybe," he said, stuffing his face with the fork he stole.

"Still doesn't explain why you were up so early," Harry said, raising his eyebrows over his goblet at Lily.

"Get that smug look off your face, Potter. I'll have you know that I was also out there for Quidditch," she replied, holding her breath. Harry looked at her incredulously before exchanging a look with Ginny and bursting into laughter. Of course Hermione didn't fly. Good thing Lily had decided she didn't care.

"I was, and Ron's giving me lessons." Although she yearned to steal Harry's impressive broom and take off into the night, she knew that would be a bit of a stretch. Wanting to learn how to fly, however, seemed reasonable enough for a girl who rode on a dragon, and pretending to be wobbly on a broom was better than nothing.

"I did?" Ron asked, and Lily kicked him under the table. "I did," he affirmed.

To his credit, when Harry realized that Lily was not joking, he sobered immediately, his amusement giving way to excitement.

"You're going to be fantastic, 'Mione! I don't know how the little ones fly yet but there's sure to be an open position or two," he said, and Ginny nodded, albeit a little less enthusiastically. James Potter would have never encouraged someone who didn't know how to fly to try out for the team, nothing superseded winning for him. Having won the most important fight in his life, however, Lily suspected things were a little different for his son. Her son. Minutes before they had to leave for class, Neville—Alice and Frank's son—came down to join them, another piece of their little hero assembly.

Liily groaned and pushed her plate away. Victory sausage had never been so unappealing.

.oOo.

 **Friday, September 16** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

Hermione set herself down on the bench in the courtyard outside of DADA gingerly. She and Frank went on morning runs, apparently, and although Alice's stoic counterpart was too polite to call her out on it, Hermione suspected she was severely out of shape in comparison to Lily. Luckily, neither Mary nor Alice seemed to notice, too engrossed in their complaints about the class, ones that for once, seemed completely valid.

Professor Prewett was unapologetically a disciple of Moody's, with a short fuse and seemingly permanent scowl etched on his face. He had gone on and on about how their previous education was abysmal and that it was a wonder how none of them had dropped like flies in a world that was growing increasingly hostile.

"You're a target, Black, and if you aren't ready to face the consequences of your actions you should have stayed where you were," Prewett had barked one day, a thinly veiled reference to his breaking off with the House of Black. Sirius had stormed out of that lesson, and Professor Prewett had gone on to make several classmates cry.

"You know they were the coolest blokes back in the day," Alice grumbled, "wonder what happened."

"The world?" Mary shrugged, waving Sirius over. If Hermione had managed nothing else, she at least was working on integrating the Marauders and the Moirai, as Sirius liked to call the trio of witches.

"Fates," Sirius greeted, bowing before wrapping an arm around Mary's waist. "Lend me your magic, Mary Poppins, to get me through this class," he said, nuzzling into her neck, making the blonde roll her eyes.

"No fair, you know I don't speak Muggle," Alice frowned, raising a hand to stop Hermione from explaining so she could flip through her Muggle Studies textbook.

Hermione turned to Remus and James, hoping to get more information on her volatile Professor. "What do you lot think happened to the Prewetts?"

Remus shrugged ambivalently. "Maybe Fabian was the interesting one all along, what do we know?" Gideon's gruffness did not bother the young werewolf particularly because he was best in the class, and was clearly enjoying the challenge. Hermione, on the other end, tried to keep herself barely above average, a surprising norm set by a girl who was well regarded as The Brightest Witch of Her Age. What Lily had earned this reputation for exactly, Hermione wasn't certain.

James, on the other hand, looked full of thought. "He seemed like a happy enough bloke when he was around, helped us with a prank or two, didn't he Pads?" He avoided the eye contact Hermione has been attempting to establish.

"That he did," Sirius said, a sneaky smile crossing his face. "Perhaps he needs to be reminded of good times, eh?"

"That's not what I meant, mate," James said quickly, and Sirius shrugged him off.

"It'll be fun! He's probably just pissy because he's never had to grade a paper in his life. Are you in or not?"

Remus sighed but agreed, and James nodded.

"Fine, but only as backup, I'm Head—"

"Head Wanker, we know, send a signal, yeah?" he asked, grabbing Remus by the robe and slinking down the hallway. James only rolled his eyes and opened up a textbook, inside of which Hermione was certain he had hidden the Marauder's Map.

Sirius and Remus made it back before Prewett did, and Frank took one look at them and decided he didn't want to know what was going on. He dragged Alice to the farthest seats from the Marauders in the classroom, clearly afraid of becoming collateral damage. Hermione and Mary quickly followed suit.

When Professor Prewett walked in, he was eerily calm. He leaned back on his desk, muscles straining against the black button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every inch of visible skin on his left arm was burned, his right sported nasty gashes that looked like they were from claws, and both were covered in impressive tattoos.

"Hello class," he said his voice multiple octaves higher than it usually was. He sounded like he had taken a hit of helium. The students looked at each other wildly, too afraid to laugh. "Tough crowd," Prewett said, throwing his arms open. "It's almost as if you've no sense of humor."

At this point, most of the class was giggling hesitantly, their trepidation disappearing when he decided to call roll and make ridiculous faces as he did it.

"I told you," she saw Sirius mouth to Potter, who demurred with a grin.

"Now," Gideon said, something about his smile making Hermione uneasy. She turned to Mary, who didn't seem perturbed. "A bit of a detour from the dark arts, but still a very important skill in defense. Who can tell me how this," he said, gesturing towards his vocal chords, "would happen to someone, theoretically."

"A charm, sir?" A Ravenclaw Hermione didn't recognize replied. The Ravenclaws in Lily's year were much more interested in experimentation than they were the regurgitation of facts, so it didn't surprise Hermione when he got the answer wrong.

"I would undoubtedly have felt the effects on my vocal cords as the charm was casted, as one would with most internal charms."

"A potion, then?" Frank quipped from the back of the room, and Prewett nodded generously.

"Exactly, and assuming I didn't intend for this to happen…""

"Someone snuck you a potion!" Alice gasped, tacking on a hasty "sir" when he turned her way.

"I was just as surprised, Fortescue," he said grimly. "It appears that one, or some, of you have gotten the best of me, and I must say I'm impressed. Anyone care to confess?"

There was an underlying edge to his voice as he smiled, sitting on his desk. Hermione hoped that Sirius wasn't stupid enough to go for whatever Prewett was playing at. Of course, after being so thoroughly embarrassed the other day, she knew the Marauder wouldn't be able to resist the chance to reestablish his ego.

Hermione glanced over, relieved to see that Remus had an iron grip on Sirius' arm and James had his wand trained at the back of his head.

"For besting me, of course, you'll be excused from our upcoming exam." He glanced towards Sirius, the damned man knew it was him, why didn't he just assign him detention and call it a day?

At this point, Sirius was wriggling in his seat. What was Prewett playing at? Hermione's mind raced. If someone were to confess, it'd certainly go on their school record, even if Prewett chose not to punish them. That of course, would have no effect on Sirius, his record already taller than himself. But Prewett was also in the unique position of being an Auror, would it be noted with the Ministry, too? What would that mean for Sirius? She glanced at Alice who had gone pale, clearly she had come to the same conclusion.

Just before Sirius shot out of his seat, a voice called from the side of the room.

"I did it, sir." McKinnon called out, and the Marauders jerked their heads in her direction.

"Did you?" he asked, clearly unconvinced.

"I did. I don't like being made a fool of." Prewett _had_ chastised her until she burst into tears the class before. She shot Sirius a warning glare, and he withered into his seat before he could stand up and deny her claims.

"Coincidentally, neither do I. You must be very talented to sneak one past me, so you're the perfect candidate for our next demonstration…Unless of course, you don't think you're up for it." The warning was clear. Accept, or I know you're not good enough to have tricked me.

"Of course, Professor," she countered, a little less confidently, and Prewett smiled his wolfish grin.

"Well then," he said, offering her his hand to help her down the little steps and into the main lecture space. He flicked his wand lazily and all unused desks and chairs flew to the side of the room, leaving the two in a cleared out circle. There was a collective, audible gasp as Prewett tapped his wand to his temple twice before extending it with his left hand and moving to shake McKinnon's hand with his right.

"Let's duel."

.oOo.

 **Thursday, September 16** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

Lily startled, practically jumping when something fell behind the bookshelf. She was, as she was often, at the library, but not for the reasons she would have liked. Instead of spending her time researching time travel or alternate universes or anything regarding the damn runes that seemed to have sent her here, she was reading an ancient textbook on Golpalott's Third Law. Although Lily didn't care too much to portray a perfect Hermione, she at least had to be convincing, and the one thing Lily didn't seem to be able to get away with was her grades.

Of course, the whole grades thing was easier said than done. Although Lily was widely considered brilliant, it wasn't exactly because of her OWL scores. So, more of her free time than she would have liked was taken up by studying. She couldn't manage to memorize the 13 uses of some obscure root and it was driving her mad.

"Why can't you just use a damn Bezoar?" she grumbled, slamming the book shut. She left the library in a sour mood, trying not to scowl at Madam Prince, who had only gotten less pleasant as the years went on. She marched to Potions, interrupted when someone saddled up to her.

"What's got you looking so down?" a cheery Neville Longbottom asked, reminding Lily painfully of Alice. She had yet to figure out what exactly happened with she and Frank, but considering the newly erected statues to their valiant sacrifice to the cause, she assumed it was nothing good.

"Potions?" he asked, taking the books Lily had been struggling with. "Understandable, although I still don't see why it frustrates you so much."

"Double." she answered. "And it's because I don't have a knack for it the way I'd like," she answered almost verbatim from a journal entry she had found from Hermione's sixth year. Lily had more than a knack for the subject, but she wasn't quite as interested in the curriculum as Hermione seemed to have been.

"Still managed an O, didn't you? Can't believe you're telling _me_ about not having a knack for Potions. Who're you with?"

"Ravenclaws." At this, Neville brightened.

"Well, that should cheer you up, shouldn't it? You're the most Ravenclaw-y Gryffindor to have ever lived."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Nev."

"Of course it is," he said, stopping at the Potions classroom. "Say hullo to Harry for me, will you? We're supposed to go visit Hagrid tonight, if you'd like to come." The burgeoning friendship between the two boys brought Lily near to tears every time she thought about it hard enough, coupled with Hagrid she would hardly be able to maintain her composure.

"Ah, I'll pass on tonight. We're still meeting for Slug Club, aren't we?"

"If you insist," Neville said, looking slightly ill.

"First Harry now you? At least Ron's got his head on straight when it comes to these kinds of things. Don't you realize how important making connections can be?" _And how useful it could be at getting me the hell out of here?_ It was no secret that Lily was particularly fond of the jolly Slytherin, what he lacked in couth he made up for in resourcefulness. He would undoubtedly be a good ally.

"Ron's only interested because there's certain to be a feast, and besides," he said, handing her books back. "I could barely whisper Grandmother's name in a room full of Ministry yuppies and they'd come running."

"Lady Augusta," Lily said wistfully. "Marvelous woman." With an equally marvelous library. "I'd love to meet her sometime."

"I mean, you have, haven't you? But I suppose you could do it properly, over tea or something. Or maybe it's dinner. I've forgotten which is more appropriate," he said mournfully. When Lily left him to go to class, he had pulled out a little notebook, mumbling as he scribbled himself a note. How any child of Alice could be so forgetful, she had no idea.

.oOo.

Deciding that today was a stay-away-from-Potter kind of day, Lily sent him a quick smile before suggesting they pair up with the other House. Harry didn't seem to mind—in fact, did he look relieved?—and paired up with Luna instead. Her own partner was a particularly pretty girl with thick hair and dark eyes that were squinting at her.

"Granger," she greeted politely.

"Hello, Patil," she answered, grateful that they were not on first name bases because she could not recall which of the two twins she was.

"I'm surprised you didn't stick with Potter today."

Ah, straight to the point. Lily only shrugged and the girl seemed to accept it as an answer. She was, like many of her year mates, exacting and fastidious, a far cry from the Ravenclaws of her year. They worked through the lesson in mostly silence, and Lily was careful to slide some of the ingredients up her sleeve as they worked. She was in _serious_ need of Dreamless Sleep and apparently Hermione had maxed out on it ages ago. She breathed a sigh of relief as they finally bottled their unfinished attempt at the all-purpose antidote, when she noticed Padma carefully stow an extra vial in her bookbag. She turned to Lily and gave her a conspiratory wink; _I won't tell if you won't._

Lily sputtered, watching her partner continue packing as if nothing had happened. What was she even going to do with a half-finished potion? Didn't she know how dangerous stowing away volatile potions could be? More importantly, why hadn't Lily thought of it first? Maybe Lily had judged the quiet Ravenclaw too hastily. At the very least, she wasn't as much of a stick in the mud as she seemed to be. Perhaps she would be an asset…

"Er, Patil?"

"Yes Granger?"

"Would you want to grab lunch sometime, study session maybe? We'll make a day of it."

Padma looked at her for a long time before a slow smile stretched across her face. "I think I'd like that."

.oOo.

 _A/N- The Moirai/The Fates are three mythological goddesses who, unsurprisingly, controlled fate._

 _Didn't get too much feedback for last chapter, I hope you still liked it! Hopefully bi Lily wasn't too strange but personally I think it's stranger for somebody in a story with so many people not to be, you know? Please review and let me know what you think, I promise I try really hard to take what you're saying into consideration. Plus, a review is basically the best thing ever to open your email up to 3_

 _Next chapter we finally hear from James, as well as Draco. Very excited!_

 _[Ai yaah: Thank you!]_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N- Surprise! I have such lovely reviewers/followers, so I thought I'd thank y'all by updating early! Thank you all for reading, and if you want more frequent updates, review review review! These chapters keep getting longer and longer…_

 _ **Chapter Seven: In Which Hermione Finally Loses It**_

.oOo.

 **Thursday, September 23** **rd**

 **1999**

.oOo.

Lily looked up from her notebook when Padma swept into the seat across from her.

"Courtesy of Rowena," the girl said, handing Lily what looked like a month's worth of Dreamless Sleep.

"Is it even legal to have so much of this on hand?"

"No," she smirked. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Only if you don't tell me where you got it," Lily sang, carefully dropping the vials into her bag. "Thank you, by the way, you're a dream." Lily had been spending much of the past week in Padma's company. Unlike Harry, Ron and co., the Ravenclaw didn't seem to know Hermione very well, and thus wouldn't be able to pick out any of Lily's idiosyncrasies. She was a respite when Lily felt like she was walking on her tip toes most of the time. Plus, it didn't seem like too much of a stretch for Hermione to be making new friends. The wonky post war scheduling had students of all houses and years taking modified courses together.

"In due time Granger, spilling all of my secrets wouldn't be very smart of me, would it?" Lily had a sneaking suspicion that Ravenclaws hadn't actually become more stuffy, rather had gotten better at hiding their true ingenuity. Another wartime precaution, she assumed. "Besides, are you really surprised? Somebody had to hold down the fort while you were off gallivanting, private potion stores aren't the half of it."

"Well it wasn't all fun and games!" Lily exclaimed. Of course, it wasn't like _she_ had done any of it, but the various scars that criss-crossed Hermione's body didn't look like they were acquired on a picnic.

"Of course not," Padma said quietly, dropping her teasing lilt. "It's just…you aren't alone, you know? You've had nothing but lions and Luna for the past few years, it wouldn't hurt to expand your horizons."

"Definitely not," Lily agreed. While Lily understood why the Golden Trio was as close as they were, she thought a lot of their troubles would have been solved had they the luxury of reaching out. Lucky for Granger, networking was one of Lily's fortes. She pulled out a container from her bag, offering the girl strawberries she had snagged from the kitchen.

Padma sighed, taking a bite from the perfectly ripe berry. "If nothing else, I'd kill to be a witch for the fruit."

Lily laughed, rising from the table and offering her arm to the other girl. "Come on, I want to ask you about a project I've been working on, better we go somewhere more private."

"A secret project? Who told you the magic words?" Padma asked. "I can hardly say no now, can I?"

.oOo.

Padma stretched leisurely, her dark hair swinging in Lily's face as she leaned over the bed to where Lily was on the ground, poring over the texts Padma had brought on Runes.

"You need to talk to Malfoy," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Malfoy? Why _him?_ " Although this Malfoy seemed significantly less dangerous than either of his parents, he was still a _Malfoy._ "Why would he help me?"

Padma let out an exasperated huff. "You are _such_ a Gryffindor, you know that? Try and put aside your lofty morals for two seconds and see what position you've put him in."

"I haven't put him in any position!" Lily tried, hoping Padma would explain.

"Not purposefully, of course. But if I'm correct, you had something to do with Harry Potter himself swooping into the Malfoy's hearings last minute, didn't you?"

Ah right, now Lily remembered. She had seen something like that in the papers.

"But who's to say it made a difference? The Wizengamot probably would have ruled the same way regardless. And it's not like I did it out of good will," Lily said, thinking about the less than flattering opinions Hermione had written about the boy.

"Doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is you've done him a favor and if he has any shred of honor left he'll want to repay you as soon as possible. I don't think it'd be unreasonable to say he owes you a Life Debt, actually."

"I'm not going to pull a Life Debt over him," Lily decided. She didn't even _know_ the boy. Padma only laughed.

"Details, details. Point is, the kind of research you want to do…well, not even Rowena can help you there. Too uncouth to harbor books _quite_ so dark, and Malfoy is your best connection to anyone who would."

"It's not like I'm trying to learn Necromancy!" Lily groaned. How hard was it for a girl to make blood wards that would ward off the darkest wizard in recent history _and_ return two witches 20 years apart to their rightful bodies? Oh wait…

"I know, but if you're right about… _him_ being willing to spare Potter's Mum, love may not have been the only power-he-knew-not."

"Love and a willing sacrifice," Lily snorted. "My favorite kinds of blood magic. I get it, I'll ask him."

"Just make sure you don't stroll into the boy's toilet with your hand on your hip, alright? You've got to wait until he can hardly refuse without sinking even lower than before."

"Are you telling me to take advantage of his misfortune?" Lily asked, and the Ravenclaw winked, gathering her things.

"Everyone knows you can be brave and kind and honorable, so forget all that, alright? Just be smart," Padma advised. "How do you feel about lunch?"

"Starving, actually." The two girls grinned and walked down to the Great Hall together.

"You know…what did you mean about Rowena not being able to help me with books that dark? You wouldn't be suggesting that she's harboring _other_ kinds of books somewhere, would you?"

Padma widened her eyes. "Well, about that…" she started, shifting her weight on her feet before taking off down the hall.

"What are we, children?" Lily called exasperatedly, not bothering to stifle a smile at the laughter that pealed down the halls after her first friend.

.oOo.

Ginny Weasley tried not to frown as Hermione traipsed over to the Ravenclaw table, merely grabbing food in a takeout container she had conjured before disappearing again with Padma.

"Everything alright, Gin?" Harry asked, turning his attention to her.

"What? Yes, of course."

"She misses Hermione," Luna said matter of factly, and Ginny frowned. Luna only shrugged. "I've been trying to reason her out of it for days, but she won't listen to a word I say. Figured I'd let you take a shot," she said, looking at Harry. "It _really_ isn't your fault that the wobbly-howlers cluster this time of year, Ginny."

Harry looked like he was trying to swallow a laugh. "Really?"

"Apparently," Ginny sighed. "I don't _miss_ her, exactly. I just…it seems like she's been avoiding me, is all." But Ginny, the lone girl in a family of rambunctious boys, missed the ever assertive presence Hermione lent in her life. She would teeter between being jealous of her and being grateful they were friends, but her adoration for the older girl was never in question. Now, they were back at school, and Ginny had hardly seen her.

"Don't worry, Gin. You know how Hermione is. She and Padma have been pairing up in potions, probably trying to get ahead."

Ron snorted. "Bet she's finally found someone who will color code her study schedules with her, bloody Ravenclaws." He was promptly swatted over the head by Luna, who only shrugged and said there was a nargle trying to nest in his hair. "Have you drawn up the plays for the next game?"

.oOo.

 **Saturday, September 24** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

 _[James' POV]_

James Potter was on top of the world. Well, on top of hisworld, which, for the moment, consisted solely of the Quidditch pitch. He had scored so many points that unless Meadows were to find the snitch in the last few minutes of the game, Gryffindor was a shoe in. Just as he was about to dive back down, Alice's piercing victory cry rang through the air, snitch in hand. Game won. After taking her customary lap around the pitch, she tossed it to James, an honor reserved for who the Seeker considered MVP. He turned towards the crowd, hands spread as he puffed out his chest.

"Pot-ter! Pot-ter!" cheers sprang up from the stands peppered with red and gold. He tossed the Snitch in his hand, sending a wink to a couple of girls as his eyes roved the crowd. Usually, this would be the perfect opportunity to try and woo Lily, but those days were long gone. Still, she had been acting rather strange lately. Ever since the Marauders had taken up with the Fates as friends, and not just because of Sirius' on again, off again antics with Mary, Lily was oddly…nice? She would walk with him to breakfast and fidget and try to meet his eyes, but then look away when he looked at her. It was all very strange. Maybe…

He lowered his broom towards the stands, hovering by the red head just as he had many times before. Her green eyes widened in surprise and she looked up at him with a disbelieving laugh.

"For me?" she asked, screaming over the crowds as he extended his hand, the snitch fluttering in his grasp. She was smiling at him, that radiant grin he was sure he had written at least 12 odes about, and he could feel his heart beat faster. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked actually taken with him.

Of course, he did know better. He shot her a lopsided grin before shaking his head. He tossed the snitch towards a pretty sixth year instead.

"Not this time, Lily-Flower," he said, his voice hard. Behind them, raucous cheers filled the air.

.oOo.

Hermione was hysterical. For a few, fleeting moments, she saw Harry, whizzing on his broom with his perpetually messy hair a blur. She saw Harry when he raised his fist triumphantly, Snitch in hand, and she saw Harry when he brought his broom down to greet her. Of course, that illusion was shattered rather quickly when James rebuked her, some sort of payback, she assumed, for whatever Lily had done to him. He really was an arrogant prat, wasn't he? Some of that, Hermione suspected, could be chalked up to adrenaline; because prior to this, James had been nothing but polite, if not distant with her. They _did_ share quarters, after all. Of course, all of these thoughts came later, because, in the moment, she was afraid her heart was going to fall out of her chest.

"How _dare_ he?" she choked out finally, after Mary had dragged her under the stands.

"Who, Potter? I'm sure he didn't mean to upset you. He's an arse, but you know he isn't malicious."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" she screeched. James Potter was the definition of malicious, if Harry's recounting of Snape's memory proved accurate.

"He looked like he wanted to give it to you and then thought better of it. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not since she declared her apparent undying love for our ex-lover boy," Alice scowled, trying to rub the dirt off her cheeks. She had run down to the stands still in her Quidditch uniform.

"Oh right, forgotten about that. I just can't see how you two would ever—"

"I get it!" Hermione interrupted. "We're completely different and I've never shown any interest in him and there's no logical reason why we would ever be together," she finished, somewhere between a sob and a shout. How was she _ever_ going to make this work? She needed the real Lily back, she needed to go home. Harry— _her_ Potter—was counting on her. Everyone was counting on her and she was failing _so_ miserably and-

"Hey, come on now Lils, if it's meant to be, it'll work out. You're worrying too much about it," Mary tried, ever confident in herself and her friends. This was not the right thing to say either, because Hermione was suddenly trying to fight back a prickling behind her eyelids. "Sweet Circe Lils, are you _crying?"_

"No!" Hermione cried. She was quickly swept into Alice's awaiting arms.

"Sorry I smell," the future Longbottom said apologetically. "But Mary's right. In the meantime, why don't we work on something else, eh?"

Mary nodded. "Everyone else will be celebrating; why don't we try out our pickpocketing skills? You still want those mirrors?" she asked, ignoring Alice's rundown of unfavorable logistics and dragging Hermione towards the castle instead.

.oOo.

 _[James' POV]_

They didn't get the mirrors. What they did end up getting, however, was rip-roaring drunk, after getting caught up in the post-game festivities. Frank lifted Alice into a piggy back and roared for Sirius and James.

"Woah there," Black exclaimed, reaching out to keep Mary stable. "Have we been out-drunk? Never thought I'd see the day. Guess that means we've gotta get back at it, eh?"

Frank glared. "You can do whatever you want, Black, just help me get these two out of here first."

"So noble," Sirius grumbled, hoisting Mary over his shoulder. "Ay Prongs, get the last witch, will you?"

James eyed Lily wearily. "Come on, then," he said, reaching out to her.

"I'd rather not, I'm having a wonderful time." In actuality, she looked like she was miserable, head in her hands as she nursed what was probably more than one too many cups. Who knew Lily Evans was a sad drunk?

"I can see that," James said, swearing under his breath. "Why can't we get Moony to do this?" he asked Sirius, who was trying to balance Mary on his broom so he could fly up the stairs. Mary promptly took off without him, leaving him to fall onto his arse.

"What a witch," he said admiringly, watching Mary circle around a chandelier. "And he's feeling a bit under the weather."

"Peter still missing?"

"Maybe he's finally found a bird to bed," Sirius shrugged, causing Frank to make a face. "What? Not all of us are Pureblood Princes, Frank. Some of us have _needs_."

"Mate, aren't you the epitome of a Pureblood Prince? Always Pure?"

"Was. Now I'm a more a Pureblood Pirate," Sirius said proudly, grabbing the crimson drapery and leaning as if he was on the helm of a ship.

"Marls still on the case?" James asked. The Ravenclaw Sirius always seemed to be pushing onto him P.E. (Post Evans) was doing a marvelous job at keeping Walburga's hands tied when it came to legally disowning Sirius.

"Yep. Dear Old Mum's drowning in legal jargon, by the looks of it. She'll be dead before she can sort through it all and since I'm _legally_ still head of House…"

"You can spend all her money on dastardly Muggle delights. Can't believe you almost blew it over Prewett, though," he said, referring to the earlier DADA fiasco for which he had gotten quite a talking to.

"How was I supposed to know that a Ministry write-up would make me unfit?" At that moment, there was a loud burst of cheers; Mary had apparently climbed onto a table. "That's my cue," Sirius said, taking off, leaving James with the Head Girl. He swallowed hard and looked at his new charge.

"You aren't going to make you carry me, are you?"

.oOo.

"You're such an arse Potter," Lily cried as he set her down in front of her room.

"And a toe-rag. And an incorrigible rascal. I know. You've said." She had been spewing all sorts of nonsense on their way to the Head Suite and it was getting old _real_ quick.

He straightened out his robes and made to walk towards his own room, but Lily lowered herself to the ground by her door instead of actually entering it.

"Come on, Evans," he said, now a bit concerned. "How much did you have to drink? I didn't think you were a lightweight."

"Why should _you_ care? All you need to know about Lily Evans is that she didn't fall head over heels in love with you in third year, and now she's a bitch."

"I've never said that!" _To your face, anyways_. He sighed and sat down next to her. Lily was always so unflappable, so confident in her refusals of his affection that to see her as anything less than indomitable was disconcerting. "I don't think you're a, that word."

"Yes you do, and so do all of your stupid friends except for Remus and I don't know _what_ he wants from Lily, anyways."

"Erm, Remus is nice to everyone, mostly, if that helps." It didn't, if Lily striking his chest was any indication.

"Hey," he exclaimed, gathering her wrists. "When have you ever been one to care about what people think of you, anyways?" _And when did you start talking in third person?_

"Well it's hard not to when an entire Quidditch stadium watches you get snubbed."

James' eyes widened in comprehension. "You're not…upset about the Snitch, are you?"

"Yes, you utter prat!"

"I..You—," he stuttered, looking bewildered. "I didn't think it'd upset you Lils, you never want anything to do with that stuff!" She deflated before him.

"This isn't supposed to be like this," she said softly.

"No kidding," James said, running his hands over his face. Never in a million years did he think he'd be in this position. If he weren't actually worried for her health, he'd be gleeful. Lily was never going to live this down. "Get up, sitting on the ground like this is only going to make tomorrow worse, unless you've invented a Sober-Up you can take right now."

"Now I invent things?" she half sobbed.

"I…yes? What's your password, Lily? I'd rather not be here all night, if I can help it." For the second time in ten minutes, James gained her ire. She turned to him and spat:

"Well I don't give a flying fuck about what you want from me right now, alright? I want to go home. I want to _go home_!" James gathered her wrists as she tried to strike him again, her attempts slowing down until she was clutching at his shirt and crying and James _really_ didn't know what to do. He coughed, trying to get her attention, to no luck. Lily Evans was _homesick?_ He looked at her through squinted eyes, as if something had shifted and things weren't quite what they used to be.

"I can't take you home, but I can put you to bed, maybe. Given you promise you won't castrate me in the morning." Lily nodded into his shirt and James hoisted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs loosely around his waist so he was able to move, and he deposited her on his own bed.

"Here. You can transfigure something, I think. Or grab a shirt," he said, pointing towards his wardrobe. "I'm heading to the Tower, alright? I'll be on the couch when I get back."

He was at the door before Lily called to him, with a voice so small he could hardly believe it was her.

"Will you stay?"

"In _here?_ Absolutely not." She let out a strangled little sob, pulling on heart strings James had taken such care to sever. He shut the door behind him and made it all the way to their kitchenette before flinging himself back towards his room, grumbling all the while. He snatched up his pyjamas and marched into the bathroom. By the time he was out, Lily's breaths were regular and shallow.

"Has anyone ever told you you're insufferable?" he asked her sleeping form as he settled into an armchair. Lily was always reactive, but drunk-Lily was, as Sirius would say, a temptress of tempests.

"Ron mostly. You've always told me it's endearing," she answered sleepily, surprising him.

"Ron? Who's Ron? And when have I said that?"

His questions were met with silence, and the resident Marauder sighed. This wasn't exactly how he had dreamed of having the bright eyed object of his affections in his bed.

.oOo.

 **Friday, September 24** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

The aforementioned opportunity Padma told Lily to look out for came sooner than expected. Lily threw down her copy of _Advanced Theories in Alternate Universes_ and jumped to her feet when she saw the telltale sparks of a Wizarding Duel extend overhead. Padma barely looked up from her own text, but waved her off.

"Holler if you need me," she said, uninterested, sighing as Lily ran towards trouble. Trouble in the form of Malfoy at the end of Harry's wand, the former gingerly holding his wand while Harry looked like he was going to take his arm off.

"What the _fuck,_ Potter?" she screamed, rushing to Harry and trying to pull his wand arm down. "What are you _doing?"_

Ron came sprinting down the hill, long limbs flailing as his robes flapped in the wind. "Bad idea!" he panted, pulling at Harry's other arm while shooting the Malfoy a death glare.

"Get _off_ of me," Harry spit out, shoving Ron to the side. He looked down at Lily, and much to her relief, carefully pried himself from her grip instead of tossing her aside like he did Ron.

"What did you do, you bloody prat?" Ron asked Malfoy, who had his wand raised tentatively in front of him.

"He was trying to sneak off!" Harry exclaimed, and Malfoy, despite his wild eyes, tried to respond with the typical aristocratic grace.

"I was doing no such thing, Potter, now if you'd lower your wand…"

"No! How the fuck do I know you're not going to go off and, and…contact your Death Eater friends?" Harry's voice was tremulous.

"Come on, mate, you know he doesn't have any of those," Ron said, trying to reason with him. Lily, for one, was rather confused, because Harry had never expressed anything towards Malfoy but polite disinterest. "It's over, I swear it is," Ron said quietly, and Harry strained to focus his eyes on his friend. Whatever Potter was suffering from, Lily was sure she wasn't equipped to handle it. Where was Ginerva when you needed her?

"Harry," Lily said calmly, "you know how Wizarding Duels work. Malfoy can't put down his wand until you do." Harry's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the wood even tighter.

"He bloody well can," Harry growled, and Ron groaned.

"Only if he wants to forfeit, and unless you specified, you know that means his title. Easy now," Ron coaxed, tugging at Harry's sleeve. As Harry lowered his wand, Malfoy made to quickly pocket his, and in a flash Harry was back on the defensive.

"What the _fuck_ did you just do, Ferret?" he said, crossing the distance between the two and jabbing his wand in Malfoy's neck. Something akin to rage crossed the blonde's countenance.

"Kindly remove yourself from my person, Potter."

"I don't think so, you can't exactly call home to Daddy, can you?"

"Don't talk about my father, you _prick_." Malfoy had gone from scared to furious, this wasn't going to end well. Lily quickly wedged herself between the two.

"Stand down, Harry, it's alright, you're alright," she tried, reaching out to him hesitantly. He was distracted long enough by her gentle touch that Ron was coming up behind him.

"I don't need your help, you little Mudblood," she heard Malfoy curse behind her, and within seconds it was not one wand trained in between his eyes, but two, Ron having joined his friend in arms.

"Where have I seen this before," Lily grumbled, mostly to herself. "Enough, okay? Enough. Wands _down,"_ she demanded, trying to emulate her mother while standing protectively in front of the ungrateful blond. After staring her down, Harry tossed his wand to the side and turned away. Lily, relieved, reached out to him once more but Harry whirled around and punched Malfoy square in the face before storming off.

Ron, unsurprisingly, had little sympathy. He gave Malfoy one last hard glare. "Stay the bloody hell away from him, will you? Hasn't your lot done enough?" he asked before taking off after his best friend. It seemed unnecessary to Lily to threaten a boy who was on the ground bleeding, but the two lions had backed down, for now.

"Are you alright?" she asked, turning to Malfoy wearily. He looked at her through squinted eyes and then laid back on the ground.

"It's always fucking you, isn't it, Granger?" he asked resignedly, not even bothering to wipe away the blood tricking down his cheek.

"I suppose so," Lily replied evasively, and Malfoy sighed.

"No chance you'll leave me to rot?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Obviously not, then." He accepted the hand she extended after some hesitation and pulled himself up. He paled when Hermione's scar peeked out of her sleeve. "You know I didn't mean—"

"I know," she said, looking at his pained expression and thinking of a man now dead. "Believe me, I know."

.oOo.

 _Thank you for the reviews/follows/favs. I usually have an imaginary number in my head of reviews and what not I'd like to get before I update. They're not stringent, of course, but I do love hearing from you all so if you want more or would like to hear more about something in particular, leave a review!_

 _On that note, do you all have a favorite side character? Like Padma/Mary/Frank/anyone who wasn't emphasized in the books? Working on a plot line and I'd love to know if there is one you favor particularly_

 _[reisa: Hope this chapter answered some of your questions, and maybe brought up some more? I'm so glad you're excited for updates! Makes me want to post 10x faster.]_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N- Alright guys, due to technical difficulties, this has not been vetted for grammar by my lovely Beta, so I apologize in advance. But hey, an update!_

 _ **Chapter Eight: Strange Bedfellows**_

.oOo.

 **Sunday, September 25** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

If every time she drank she ended up in a different bed, perhaps the key to getting out of here was getting properly plastered every night. Hermione woke up and squinted into the bathroom, the door ajar as Potter washed his face. It wasn't a scene she was unused to, honestly, she and Harry had often spent nights together in the aftermath of the war. It helped, sometimes, to sleep next to someone who, at the very best, would spend a good night in your presence, and at the very worst, at least share in your nightmares. But for all their sleeping together, it was _just_ that. _Sleeping._ Sometimes snuggling, sometimes screaming, usually Hermione being woken up by a sleepy, grinning Harry claiming he had been choked to death in his sleep by the Giant Squid's tentacles while spitting her hair out of his mouth. Nothing more than needing another comforting presence. Of course, that hadn't happened in months and this wasn't Harry, it was James. Not to mention she wasn't being teased into the kitchen for breakfast but rather forced out of the bed in search of Sober-Up.

"Hnngh," she croaked, apparently not able to formulate words yet.

"Drawer in the nightstand," James called back, appearing shortly after. Hermione openly stared, at first because she mistook him for Harry, and then because he was clearly not done getting ready, considering he was lacking a shirt. Perhaps she really _should_ take up Quidditch, if that's the kind of body... She blushed and looked away, but not before James raised an eyebrow at her. "Alright, Evans?"

She downed the potion she had retrieved and leaned back against the headboard. "How bad was last night?"

"For me?" James asked, rummaging through his wardrobe. "It was going fairly well until the Head Girl decided to have a meltdown."

"Shut up, Potter," she grimaced. Couldn't he see she was suffering? Did he not have one iota of sympathy towards her?

"I'm sorry, what did you say? Did you want me to let some light in?"

"Tosser," she said, throwing the blanket back over her head.

"So you mentioned, along with all the other nonsense you were going on about." He was paying her very little attention, instead thumbing through a collection of expensive looking ties that were all essentially the same. He did not, fortunately, open the curtains.

"What kind of nonsense?" she asked wearily.

"That I was anything less than your knight in shining armor, mostly." There was the slightest of smiles on his face when Hermione threw a pillow at him, but he quickly returned to his previous impassive expression.

"Look, next time you need a good cry, make sure one of your little Golden Trio is well enough to take care of you, okay? Or at least give me your bloody password," he said, all business again. "Alice and Mary are coming down in a bit, can I trust you not to become entirely hysterical before they get here?"

"I got drunk, Potter, I'm not unstable, and on that note, I don't appreciate what you're suggesting. If it were Sirius getting pissed the last thing you would call him is hysterical." Hermione had been doing a lot of SPEW research as of late. She was still irritated, but pleasantly surprised when James, instead of interrupting her, looked thoughtful, if for only a moment.

"Maybe not, but the last thing I need is Mad Mary and Fucking Fortescue beating down my door because the Gryffindor Princess got her feathers ruffled."

Hermione was aghast. "You…you! You areso _rude!_ How can you possibly be this unpleasant so early in the morning?"

"An acquired skill, I assure you." He picked up his bag and made to leave before taking one last glance at her, still in his bed. "Drink some water, will you?" he asked, gesturing towards the pitcher on the nightstand. "We've got a meeting for the ball tonight and I do _not_ want to head that alone."

"The ball?"

James shot her a wry smile. "You didn't hit your head yesterday, did you? October's just around the corner _._ "

"Stating the obvious, thank you _."_ Hermione grumbled.

"One of many talents, on top of Quidditch." James tugged at his collar. "Look, I am sorry I embarrassed you at the game, Lily," he said suddenly, eyes anywhere but on her.

"It's alright," Hermione stammered, flabbergasted by the change in demeanor. He gave a curt nod before heading out the door, leaving her to try and make sense of their interaction. Why was James so hot and cold? Well, more cold and lukewarm, but he had let her sleep in his bed and he called her friends so he couldn't be all bad. Plus, he was Harry's dad. He _had_ to be more than this!

She might not be able to figure out the enigma that James Potter seemed to be, but, at the very least, she could move from his bed. But his sheets were so luxurious and the shades did such a marvelous job at keeping out the sun, perhaps she could just lay here and let everything crash and burn around her. Unlikely, of course, considering Mad Mary and Fucking Fortescue were due to be tossing her out of bed like the good friends they were any minute. For the moment, though, she sighed, letting her head hit the pillow once more. It smelled of soap and smoke and something earthy she _knew_ she recognized but couldn't quite pin down…

Foreign, yet familiar.

.oOo.

 _[James' POV]_

James groaned, leaning up against the parapets on Gryffindor tower to face his friends. The spell he and Peter had casted promptly ended, transfigured tentacles turning back into branches and falling into the Lake with an innocuous plop. The fifth years below looked at each other in disbelief.

"Alright there?" Remus asked, looking up from where he was practicing turning a Snitch into a particularly vengeful type of bird.

"I dunno, this just isn't cutting it for me," he replied glumly. As Head Boy, James had been corralled to the back of all Marauder action, much to his chagrin. These little pranks, as harmless as they were, should have been freeing.

"Evans?" Remus asked knowingly.

"Evans." He confirmed. "She's been all out of sorts lately, and it's driving me mad."

"Well, she has been acting kind of strange. Haven't seen her around in a bit, actually."

"Not even for…" he trailed off.

"Nope. Don't let Sirius hear you complaining though. You know how he feels about it." Remus said, gesturing towards the sky where Sirius was zooming towards them on his broom.

"What are you lot doing sitting around for? Don't we have some energy to burn? Unless Moony's already gone to see Evans."

James paled involuntarily at her name, and Sirius shot him a sharp look. "You haven't been on about her, have you?"

"Of course not," James scowled. "Ask him."

Remus nodded silently, and Sirius narrowed in on Peter.

"Petey. My friend, my rat, my number one sneakster," Sirius said, twirling his wand. "You'd tell me if these two were in cahoots, wouldn't you?"

Peter scoffed. "You're always in cahoots without me."

That was all the conformation Sirius needed. He groaned theatrically, shaking James by his shoulders.

"I thought we were done with this, mate!"

"We _are,_ she's just been acting completely barmy lately."

Remus snorted. "You do know that happens sometimes when people get intoxicated, don't you James Dearest?"

"I know that," he scowled at Remus who chuckled silently. "But she was _crying_." This shut his companions up rather quickly.

"Crying, I believe," Remus remarked. James had teased her to tears countless times. Plus, Severus never failed to be able to set off her waterworks. "But to you?"

"I know! It was _terrifying._ I thought fifth years were hard to deal with, but a crying Evans…I couldn't even fucking sleep because I thought she had been cursed or poisoned or something."

"You watched her sleep all night?" Peter asked.

"It wasn't like that! She kept yowling and moaning, it sounded like she was being murdered!" It had really been a terrible night. He thought about binding her limbs to the posts so she would stop thrashing, but knowing his luck, it'd be the precise moment she got up. Instead, he kept a silent and miserable vigil over the Head Girl, trying to make sure she wouldn't give herself a black eye.

Sirius was quiet for a long time. "I'm glad you could help her out, mate, but are you really going to go running back to her every time she cries?"

"I did not go running back to her," James scowled. "I'm _over_ it, remember?"

"Then prove it." Sirius said, shaking his head. "If you want to waste your last year pining over a girl who has made it very clear she's not interested, fine. Your Mum will do a wonderful job picking out a marriage contract for you. Maybe that Greengrass girl?"

James winced. He was over Lily, he _was!_ Any decent human being would have been worried about her last night. Of course, Lily had never extended that title to him, had she? He was silent for a moment, looking over the grounds. "Do you know if Marlene has a date for Hogsmade yet?"

Sirius whooped, hitting him on the back. "Atta boy, James!" he cried, and Remus and Peter gave him a polite round of applause.

On top of being Sirius' beleaguered makeshift legal advisor, Marlene was fit and nice enough. Plus, she had a penchant for explosives. Two birds, one stone, James supposed.

.oOo.

 **Monday, September 27** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

 _[Draco's POV]_

He should have taken Blaise's offer. He should have just given up his magic for a bit and high-tailed it to the continent instead of serving his probation at Hogwarts. He closed his eyes, imagining he was in Blaise's cushy villa, drinking Limoncello and making fun of the muggles on the marina below. Of course, that wasn't an option for him, not really. He needed to get an education and start rebuilding the Malfoy name or some shite, but _still._ At least he wouldn't be _here_ , at the Hogwarts library, afterhours with the bushy-haired-bane-of-his-academic-existence and her new side kick. Padma, he had to admit, was much more palatable than Weasley. She and Parvati were widely accepted as the prettiest girls in their year, and Padma, at least, seemed to have a brain to boot.

"What about this one?" Hermione whispered from up ahead. The three were perusing through the Restricted Section after Draco explained that books they were looking for probably wouldn't _look_ like they were on the subject.

"Put that down, Granger!" he hissed, stumbling over a stepping stool as he snatched it from her. "You can't just pick these up willy-nilly. For Salazar's Sake, it's a wonder you didn't end up poisoning yourself in the woods."

Padma snorted audibly from a shelf over.

"Watch it you two, I have put a woman in a jar before and I will do it again."

"You did _what_?" Draco asked, shocked. She shot him a smug smile that looked like it belonged on someone more like Daphne Greengrass than Gryffindor's resident work horse. "Fucking Dumbledore," he cursed. That barmy old man was probably laughing in his grave, right now, three out of the four houses working together to get a present done for Potter's wedding. Granger wanted to recreate the wards his mother had cast and had somehow decided on his unfortunate soul to help. Although a part of him recoiled at the thought of having to work with them, he was simply too tired to maintain the acidity necessary to carry out the hateful diatribe he had grown up on. Plus, they were much smarter than Crabbe and Goyle. It would be good to keep his mind busy, even if it was at Granger's request. At least she wasn't shaking in her shoes whenever they crossed paths now.

"If these books are so terribly dangerous, why are they around, anyways?" Hermione asked, a rather dumb question, in his opinion.

"Have you forgotten, dear Hermione, what lengths I had to go to _get_ us here?" Padma appeared around the corner. They put Padma in charge of getting them access to the darkest books the library had, since Draco was in no position to be making waves and Hermione was too much of a Gryffindor to do it well. "It's not like they're ours for the taking. Or, they weren't supposed to be."

"You never _did_ say how you got us these keys," Draco said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Do you really want to know?" Padma flipped her hair and smirked.

"What, you think I can't handle your sneaky little tricks? Do you have any _idea_ what constituted as acceptable in my house?" Who _was_ this little Ravenclaw brat?

"Nothing impressive, if you still haven't run the diagnostics in that book. Honestly, how did you survive living with the Dark Lord?" Hermione spat, coming to her friends defense faster than he could blink. Draco heard Padma intake a sharp breath, and for a moment, there was complete and utter silence.

There was a flash of confusion, and then rage. Who the _fuck_ did Granger think she was, talking to him like that? On that note, when was the last time anyone at this school bothered to talk to him at all? He looked at her, anger giving way to curiosity. And then, surprising even himself, he laughed.

"Powerful women," he answered finally, thinking of his mother. "Powerful, sneaky women who were looking out for me."

Padma and Hermione looked at him with identical expressions akin to tenderness and he scowled.

"Keep looking, will you? I don't know about you but _I'd_ like to be out of here before dawn."

.oOo.

They found what they were looking for just before the sun-up, so the two tired girls would hear none of Draco's whinging. Well, it was more grumbling under his breath while he alternated between antagonizing his partners and ignoring them completely. He reminded Lily of _him_. That was one mess she was all too happy to leave to Granger.

"Shall we see if the Room of Requirement is still around?" Padma asked, bleary eyed and still beautiful. The three had snuck back out of the library and were trying to decide where to read the book Draco picked up.

Draco stopped and paled, a considerable feat given his already frost countenance. Lily wondered what she had missed. Padma looked horrified and apologized until Draco waved her off.

"We'll use my room," he said once he found his voice.

"And how is that any less suspicious than going to either of our dorms?" Lily asked. The last thing she wanted was for Harry or Ron to realize something was off, so they had to be sneaky. "Won't your roommates think it's strange?"

Draco glared. "I don't _have_ any roommates right now, Granger. As long as you two can get through the Common Room with your cloak, you'll be fine." Padma was thrilled by the idea of finally seeing the Slytherin quarters, but Lily wasn't ready to let it go.

"You mean you're the _only_ one who's returned?" Did he really have nobody, then?

"Of our year, yes. That's exactly what I mean. Now are you done asking stupid questions?" He stalked ahead towards the dungeons and Padma grabbed her by the elbow.

"He is _not_ a house-elf, do you understand me, Granger? I saw that look. We have to play this by ear or he'll run," she hissed.

"Of course, Padma," Lily replied, bewildered. A house-elf? Did she think she was going to boss him around in his own room? What kind of person was Hermione?

"Well come on then," she said merrily, stepping into the dungeons. "Pull out Potter's cloak, will you? I'm dying to see what it looks like in there."

Draco gave them the okay to enter. It was still early, so nobody was in the Common Room.

"You live like _this?"_ Padma asked, not bothering to hide her horror at the dark, uninviting room. Lily had to agree with her. No wonder Sev was so miserable all the time.

Draco turned back to them and rolled his eyes. "Calm down," he said, waving his wand. "Precautionary measure. Slughorn did a bit of redecorating during reconstruction. I forget you can't see what we do."

In a blink of an eye, the room had changed. The dark wood floors became marble, the low leather sofas luxurious chaises. Chandeliers sprouted from the ceiling, dazzling the room in reflections of crystal. It lacked the hominess the Tower had, of course, but it was opulent and impressive. Padma whistled under her breath.

"Old Slughorn must have a contractor friend," she whispered, looking at the gilded ceiling.

"He does, actually," Lily said with a grin. Slughorn had always said it was important to keep business cards in your back pocket. He clearly made good on his connections.

"Yes, well, unless you want to keep dawdling, you can explain to him why you're here yourself," Draco hissed, ushering them into his room. It was not unlike the rooms the Gryffindors shared, except in that it was eerily clean, the room made for seven being used by only one.

"Am I standing where Pansy Parkinson once stood?" Padma asked, making a face. Draco looked at once horrified.

"At least let me put up the bloody silencing charm before you decide to say something so vile," Draco said aghast.

Lily frowned. "She's a _person_ you arsehole. Don't call her vile."

Padma shook her head. "You weren't here that last year, Hermione. Trust me. Vile doesn't even start to cover it."

"Fine. Do you know what is vile? This book," Lily said, pulling the heavy tome from her bag. "Is this really human skin?" she asked, holding it away from her and wrinkling her nose.

"In Hogwarts? Absolutely not. This is by no means an original. Reprints are usually watered down, so hopefully we'll still find something helpful." Padma said, examining the spine.

"We had better," Draco called from where he was rummaging through his wardrobe. He came out with a pair of dragon hide gloves and what looked like Chemistry goggles. "Because I have no intention of doing this with you lot again." Lily and Padma only exchanged a look. It's not like he had anywhere else to be.

"So, not to question your expertise on all things dark and dastardly, but how do we get a book about the Unforgivable to tell us about Blood Wards?" Lily asked.

Draco shot them both another disgusted look. "Put these on," he said, tossing them the goggles he had replicated from his own. He flipped the book open to the middle page (the first chapter on Imperius, by happenstance) and muttered a spell under his breath.

"Idiots," he said aloud. "How do these even get _into_ the castle. Same fucking way they let Riddle in, I suppose." He rolled his sleeve up and pricked himself with his wand, drawing a gasp from Padma. Lily had been expecting this, of course, use blood to learn about blood wards, but Padma looked slightly ill.

"Are you alright?" Lily whispered, leaning over. The girl nodded mutely, unable to tear her eyes away from where a single drop of blood rolled down Draco's pale skin.

" _Contens revelare_ ," he cast when his blood hit the pages, sizzling as hot black ink splashed back up at them. One by one, the words in black disappeared to be replaced by ones in red.

"Amazing," Lily whispered in wonder. "How do you know how to _do_ that?"

He shot her a grim grin. "Junior Death Eater Duties. It's not exactly the most comforting sensation," he said through gritted teeth. Lily grabbed his arm from where he had put it behind his back and gasped. Much to her horror, the slow forming words on the page were also being cut into his skin. In an instant Lily had knocked his wand out of his other hand. Padma shot up and left the room.

"What are you _doing_ Granger?" Malfoy asked crossly as the few words in red began to disappear.

"Have you gone _mad_?" she screeched, casting a numbing charm of her own design on his arm.

"Obviously not, seeing as how it was _working_ —"

"I don't care if it was working, Mother of Morgana!" Lily exclaimed, tearing up the ends of her robe to tie around his skin, lest charms not work on the small, but insidious open wounds.

"Are you squeamish?" Draco asked incredulously, and Lily shot him a look. Padma ran in shortly after, kneeling by Draco who still looked bewildered at the fuss being made about him.

"Is that safe?" Lily asked, eyeing the bubbling green concoction in the vial Padma held.

"Obviously," she said, opening it with her teeth and spitting the cork out towards Lily as if offended. Lily sat back on her heels, watching the scene in a morbid fascination. Padma had gotten the scarring under control in minutes, bandaging him back up. After she was sure Padma had done all she could do, Lily thwacked him upside the head.

Of course, she never made it, because Draco had her wrist pinned above her head in a flash, face twisted and eyes wild, not so much angry as he was…scared? Lily shot Padma a look, and the dark haired girl grudgingly returned her wand to her hip.

"I don't know who you've gotten on with so far," Lily said, trying not to wince in his grasp. "But this," she gestured towards his arm with her free hand, "is _not_ okay. We don't hurt ourselves, or each other, for that matter, for a side project."

Draco released his grip on her carefully, eyeing the red spots that were blooming on her wrist before sweeping out the door.

.oOo.

"Well he's not a fucking house-elf!" Lily huffed, flopping onto the bed she assumed was Draco's. Padma stood up and walked to the grand windows where the glass was the only thing separating the dungeons from the Lake.

"No, not exactly. You can't quite knit him a hat to free him from his demons, can you?" She turned her attention back to the window and gasped. "Are those plants or Mer-People hair?"

.oOo.

 **Tuesday, September 27** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

Hermione sat at breakfast, the only other person on their end of the table so far being Frank, as he always set their runs to obscene hours of the morning. She was surprised when a dark eyed owl swooped in before the rest of them, dropping a package unceremoniously onto her lap.

"Frank, you haven't sent me anything, have you?" she asked, and for a moment, he looked terrified.

"Nice try Lily, your birthday is in January." If there was anyone who embodied goodness as well as Frank did, it could only be his son. Granted Neville tended to do it with a little bit more personality. Frank was, so far, basically a good natured moral compass. Then again, she thought, war certainly did take a toll on her morals, who knew what he would be like a year from today? Certainly not as pure as he seemed to be now. You couldn't be, not for the Greater Good. She forced herself not to look up at the Head Table into those familiar twinkling eyes (that wouldn't even blink before slipping her Veritaserum to find out all she knew) and turned her attention back to the package.

She untied the twine hesitantly, tearing off the packaging to reveal a simple white box. In it were two stunning silver compact mirrors, an intricately forged pattern of vines and flowers made of gemstones swirling along the edges. The middle was simply melted metal where she assumed a House Crest had been blasted off. She opened one carefully, nearly crying in relief when the stones on the other began to heat up and glow.

" _Heard you were homesick"_ was all the attached note said.

.oOo.

 _A/N- Oh James, what is Hermione supposed to do with you?_

 _Leave a review and let me know what you think!_

 _[Ai Yaah: Thank you! I try so, so hard with the characters omg. Alice is one of my favs, too!] [reisa: YOU are everything. Goodness your reviews make me so happy! As for your questions, feel free to assume Peter is up to all sorts of shady things. Hermione is currently in beast-mode, having experienced what she has she knows how to function in high stress situations. Lily, not so much.]_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- To be clear, the compact mirrors Hermione received are not the same as Sirius' handheld ones (one of those ends up in Harry's possession Book 5, remember?).

This whole chapter is in 1977, but I think Lily fans-Do you even exist? I swear, she's great-will be satisfied. As a tip, keep in mind the POVs when you learn about her and other characters. Contextualize opinions by how trustworthy you think the respective "narrators" are.

 _ **Chapter Nine: Hogsmeade**_

.oOo.

 **Saturday, October 1** **st**

 **1977**

.oOo.

 _[James' POV]_

James Potter was having a hard time keeping his head on straight. There were all of the planning details for the ball, classes, prefect's meetings and rounds he needed to schedule, and of course, the ever-looming question of what he wanted to do with his future. He stared at the sweaters on his bed, thinking of the color wheel Lily had conjured up the night before while they brainstormed decoration schemes. He really didn't have the brain capacity for this date, and he _especially_ didn't have the processing power to deal with Lily Evans.

Living with her was nothing like he had expected it to be. He had spent the greater part of the summer cataloguing her faults. Too driven, too callous, too uncaring of goals that weren't her own. She was never mean, of course, but sometimes that empty stare she would give him with the tilt of her head was even worse than a tongue lashing. Although her temper hadn't died down, she seemed to have redirected it ever since that unfortunate incident with Snivellus in their fifth year. She was smoldering on the inside and had no time for miscreants such as himself. _What_ she was so busy trying to do, James had no idea, but he watched the way the Fates would put their heads together and whisper, the way they singled out his year mates—Frank, Remus—there was _something_ brewing in Gryffindor tower. Something he wasn't to be made a part of, and after years of vying for her affection, and then approval, James had given up. It was easy to dislike her remembering that look, as if he were a Flobberworm on a cutting board she had just deemed too stale to bother hacking into pieces.

Of course, this year it was all different. She was still Lily, exclusive and exquisite, but she seemed less so. It was just last morning he had caught her chanting "I am Lily Evans," in front of the mirror, a scene straight from a self-help book. He had smothered his laughter and hid in his room, forced to consider that Lily, who needed confidence exercises and got drunk and cried because she missed her parents, wasn't quite as heartless as he thought. Plus, the way she looked at him now, the corners of her eyes would crinkle and she'd smile and it was as if she saw something in him that wasn't completely worthless to her. It was unnerving. He didn't know if he liked it.

"Potter," she called, a soft knock interrupting his internal monologue. "May I come in?"

"What?" he asked harshly as he opened the door, irritated she was taking residence in his thoughts again. She looked startled by his abruptness, but nevertheless smiled. He sighed and leaned against the door frame. "What can I do for you, Evans?"

"Well not for me, exactly, but with me? If you have time, that is. I thought we could check out the shop displays together today, maybe take note to see if there's anything we like for the Ball? They do all sorts of studies on colors and positions and what not so I thought we could—"

James held his hands up in surrender, wondering when Lily had begun to ramble. "Sorry Evans, no can do. I have plans."

Lily's smile faltered only for a moment. "Oh! Well that's alright then." She peered around his room and got up on her tip toes, looking over his shoulder. Her sharp eyes narrowed in on the scene on his bed.

"Are you having trouble deciding what to wear?" she asked with a sly smile.

"What? I, psh, no," James sputtered. The red flush he could feel creeping across his face seemed to have said otherwise, because she ducked under his arm and strode into his room, hand on her hip.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed, you know, I do this all the time for…" she trailed off suddenly, biting her lip. She looked so far away and vulnerable for a moment, James almost had to pinch himself to keep from gawking.

"Ron?" he asked, remembering Lily's behavior from the other night. She whirled around and looked at him with wide eyes. "You mentioned him the other day, when you were, err, out of it."

"I thought you said I didn't say anything strange!"

"You didn't! You just said something about Ron, I just assumed he was a friend of yours!"

"He is," Lily said sharply. There was a tense silence that followed, and James was annoyed at the guilt that bubbled up inside him. He _knew_ her home life was a sensitive topic, she had been crying about it for fucks sake, why had he gone and brought it up? More importantly, why did he care? He hadn't done anything _wrong!_ Fucking Evans, he thought irritably, looking at the girl who had gone from refreshingly chipper to somber in a matter of moments. He deliberated for a moment before groaning internally.

"Well," he said, coming to stand next to her. "I hope he's a well-dressed bloke, because if I don't look presentable today, my Mum will hear of it."

Lily looked up from the floor and gave him a broad smile. "You won't regret it, James, I swear," and despite the ensuing onslaught on how cardigans had no gender restrictions and arguments over whether or not he needed a tie, he really didn't.

"There," Lily said, fastening a scarf around his neck and patting his chest. After being wrangled into a dark blue cardigan that he really did look dashing in, he didn't bother and try to pull the it's-too-warm-for-a-scarf card. "What are you all dressed up for, anyways? Has Zonko himself come to town?"

James blinked. It was no secret that Lily and the Fates weren't exactly impressed with the Marauders' crowning achievements. "Err, no. I've got a date, and Marley is Mum's favorite," he said, wondering why he was almost reluctant to tell her. She gave him a pretty smile and wished him luck and offered to handle carriage duty on her own before sweeping out of his room, leaving him to stare at the spot she had just vacated in disbelief.

 _Fucking Evans_ , he thought for the umpteenth time that day. He had other things to think about, namely a witch who would serve him his arse on a platter if she thought he was playing her. He shuddered, suddenly glad he had the scarf, and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

.oOo.

Hermione had been having _such_ a good morning. The mirror was hidden, her classes were going well, and good, sweet Frank had even snuck her a rare book on warding that was _sure_ to be a help. Of course, there had been that minor Ron hiccup in James' room, but she had quickly busied herself with dressing James up not unlike she had Harry on his first official date after the war. James was not nearly as pleasant as his son, but he was begrudgingly funny and quick with his wit and the two had fallen into a tentative rhythm. Everything was coming up Granger. Or had been, of course, before Hermione realized he was going on a date. With Marlene.

For reasons she couldn't quite pin down, Hermione didn't like Marlene McKinnon. Perhaps it was because of the favor Sirius showered down on the unmoved Ravenclaw- Hermione had been trying to get Sirius to like her for weeks! Or maybe it was because of that curious display in DADA; she had fended off Professor Prewett with no more than a sixth year's skill set—it should have bene impossible, really. Whatever it was, there was something about Marlene that made the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand up, suspicions she considered all but confirmed when she saw Marlene McKinnon and Peter Pettigrew together on the map she had filched from Remus.

She put on a strained smile when Alice bounced up to her through the sea of students congregated outside. "Potter skivved off, has he? We'd better start without him then." She spun around gleefuly, singling out groups of students. "Oi, you lot, into that one!" she directed into carriages.

"Remind me why you weren't made Head Girl?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. Alice just snorted. She, like her soon to be husband, really was lovely. Hermione had only been there a month and she was already entirely attached to the girl, a loyalty she assumed was only deeper on Alice's side, since she had known Lily for six years.

"Alice, can I ask you something?" The small brunette stopped pretending to lasso the third years with her wand.

"Of course you can, Lala." Hermione cringed at the pet name and trucked through nonetheless.

"How do you feel about McKinnon?"

"Marlene? I like her, of course. She isn't exactly the most approachable girl, but she's done a bang up job with our finances. Did you see how much our last fundraiser raked in?" Hermione sighed, realizing Alice was talking about SPEW.

"I know, she's great, but I mean…What do you think about her _personally."_

Alice blinked. "Well… we don't know her _that_ well, do we? You'd be better off asking Sirius if you're trying to get to know her or something, unless…Oh _Lily!"_ Alice implored, "tell me this isn't about James."

"I think she's up to something, Alice! I don't know what, exactly, but I've had the strangest feeling about her—"

"And you've conveniently only felt this way when she's going to Hogsmade with your newfound crush? A crush, by the way, I have taken at face value despite the _years_ of empirical evidence that suggests otherwise—"

"I know," Hermione interrupted, "and you're a dream, but you said yourself that she wasn't interested in him in the least! Why are they suddenly going on a date _now?_ "Hermione couldn't exactly explain her suspicions without revealing more information than Lily Evans would know, so she tried the Alice approach.

"That is true…" Alice trailed off, and Hermione knew she had her.

"Alice please, I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't think it was important, I _need_ to know if she's up to something."

"Dissident in the ranks," she said distastefully, the words bitter on her tongue. "You really, truly think there's something there?" At Hermione's affirmation, Alice groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Fine, but if Mary catches wind of this, you're on your own."

.oOo.

Alice frowned as Hermione transfigured a pebble into a ladybug. "That is supposed to help us _how?"_

"Surveillance charm," Hermione explained. "It'll record their conversation."

"Only you would put those two together," Alice muttered, watching Hermione let the bug loose into a carriage. "This way Potter, a carriage for you and your lovely lady," she called as the couple in question threaded their way through the crowds.

"A carriage all to ourselves?" Marlene asked, eyebrows raised as she greeted Hermione and Alice.

"Head Boy does come with its privileges, you know," James teased, helping her up. He tossed his date a careless wink, and although Marlene only scoffed, James looked far more at ease with her than he did with Lily. The bug was perched innocuously on the very edge of the carriage, perfectly safe as James and Marlene boarded. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and was about to close the door when the scarf James had been wearing moments earlier fell out.

"Oops, clumsy me," Marlene said, coming down the steps to retrieve it. She shot Alice and Hermione a cool smile. "It's a little warm in there, you know," she commented before climbing back in, and Hermione could do nothing as she crushed the bug underfoot.

.oOo.

 _[James' POV]_

"Cut the crap, you gutter snipe. Where are you going with this?"

"Well," James drawled, "I think we're going to Hogsmade." Marlene clicked her tongue and scowled, and unable to help himself, he laughed. James and Marlene were familiar, having attended balls and functions at each other's homes. It was hard not to have a soft spot for the witch whose toes he had spent many a formal party treading on, one he knew was reciprocated.

"Are you in some kind of trouble, Jamie?" she asked in a low tone. "Has Lady Dorea found out you desecrated a family heirloom?"

"First of all, you taught me that spell, so if I'm going down, you're coming with me; and secondly, I'm not always in a bind, woman. Have some faith!"

"I would, but last time I did I ended up in your wine cellar _literally_ knee deep in—"

"Don't remind me," James grimaced. "You caught me on an off day, I'll admit."

She squinted at him suddenly. "This isn't a prank, is it? Because I swear to Salazar, if it is I'm going to hex your balls off and serve them to you for dinner."

"As appetizing as that sounds, is it that hard to believe I'd want to take you out?" She looked as though she were deep in thought for a few moments.

"You're paying."

"Of course."

"Honeydukes afterwards?"

"Do you think I was raised in a barn?"

"You'll charm Aberforth into letting us have our way with the tap?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Alright Potter, I'll cater to your, well, whatever this is. But only because it _happens_ to be advantageous to me if Mum thinks we're courting. Not to mention Lady D can hardly be mad at you if you tell her you're bringing me home for Yuletide," she said, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.

"I knew I liked you for a reason Marls," James said with a conspiratory grin. "Business or pleasure first?"

.oOo.

While Hermione hadn't put much stock into Alice's warning about Mary, she wish she had.

"What on _earth_ are you doing loitering about here?" Mary asked, wrinkling her nose at The Hog's Head.

"Ah, you know, getting some…fresh air?" Hermione tried.

"Oh? Don't tell me you're on a date, Lily Evans."

"Oh no, just waiting on Alice." Hermione was keeping watch while Alice checked to see if Marlene and James were there.

"Just a girls day, then?" she asked, sounding hurt that she had not been invited.

"No, no, of course not. I mean yes, but you're welcome to join," Hermione said quickly, cringing at how ridiculous she sounded. Mary furrowed her brow but said nothing, crossing her arms and standing outside as well. Just then, Alice burst out of the door.

"No sign of them in there, Lily, we could try and check—" she reported before realizing Mary had joined them. "Oh! Hello!" she said nervously.

"No sign of _who_ there?" Mary asked, eyes narrowing in on Hermione.

"Oh, we thought a couple of the sixth years were buying Dungbombs to sneak into the castle," Alice rattled, and Mary held up a hand, silencing her. She really was a _terrible_ liar.

"No sign of who?" she asked again. Her dark eyes glinted dangerously and Alice looked like she wanted to be swallowed by the Earth.

"McKinnon." Hermione said finally, figuring Mary's wrath wasn't worth getting into a lie she couldn't explain her way out of. "I think she's up to—"

Before Hermione could even explain her suspicions, Mary had broken out into a mirthless laugh. "You're joking. You _must_ be kidding, Lily."

"Mary," Alice said reproachfully, hand on her shoulder, Mary shook it off abruptly.

"Don't you Mary me, Alice, encouraging this," she said disdainfully. " _Fuck,_ Lily, I thought you were over this shite?"

"Mary I swear to you I wouldn't be doing anything if I didn't honestly think—"

"If you didn't honestly think? _If you didn't honestly_ _think?_ Lily, I don't give a rats arse about what you honestly think, because has it never once occurred to you that you might be wrong? That you might have to give someone the benefit of the doubt?"

 _There's no benefit of the doubt in war_ , Hermione thought, but she remained silent.

"Honestly Alice, I don't know why you're encouraging this. Marlene is our _friend._ Do you remember what that is, Lils? To have friends and not fucking minions?"

"Mary!" Alice shrieked.

"What? I'm so tired of your shite! You want to play princess, fine. But this? Sneaking about because you _think_ somebody—a friend, no less- might leak your precious plans? As if _you_ can do what even Dumbledore hasn't been able to. Newsflash Lily, you're brilliant, but you're not that important." She spit finally. "Come on Alice, we should go. We all know what happened last time Lily had a suspicion," she said, turning on her heel.

"Well that was uncalled for," Hermione said, watching the blonde stalk away. The words stung, of course, but they weren't really meant for her. Besides, Mary's little outburst had given her _plenty_ of insight into Lily Hermione would have to mull over.

Alice looked at her mournfully. "Was it? I—I think she's right on this one, I shouldn't have let you—" Alice sighed, massaging her temples. "Look, I'll see you later, okay? She'll come around before the next meeting, but…you should probably prep for this one on your own." Alice shot Hermione a regretful look before running to catch up with their fuming friend, leaving her alone in front of the seedy bar.

.oOo.

Hermione hadn't begun to feel _really_ guilty until she sat in on James and Marlene's date. They talked about their classes and families and Sirius. They laughed about not knowing which fork to use even though they had both done the Wizarding version of Cotillion, and blushed over their inability to eat pasta while looking dignified. Marlene wasn't some sort of secret Death Eater ambassador. She was his friend, and they were _children._ Mere children in comparison to her, 20 years of age and hardened by battlefields, she was disgusted with herself for jumping to such dramatic conclusions. She probably hadn't seen the bug, and maybe she and Peter had a class together. The war wasn't at their doorsteps quite yet, why was she trying to bring it to them? She trailed them to Honeydukes more out of a sick curiosity than urgency, watching as Marlene threw Fizzing Whizbees into James' mouth and then looked panicked when he pretended to choke. She shoved him when he showed her he was fine, and he laughed. How many times had Ron or Harry done the same thing? She missed their antics; Harry's consistent efforts to bring her into the real world and Ron's unique way of getting her worked up into a passion. "That's my girl," they'd say with a smile as Hermione ranted about House Elf rights or Werewolf legislation. "The world had better watch out for our brilliant, terrifying friend." The very same friend who, when _everything_ was on the line, couldn't even get a boy to like her.

She left the store when James and Marlene got into an argument over who would pay, the former flashing the Potter wealth while Marlene dug through her bag, a scene she and Harry played out every time they went out. She wondered if he was doing the same with Ginny. Or Lily, for that matter. Even if she _did_ make it out of this hellhole, would Harry ever forgive her for not being brave enough to save his parents? Would he even want her back? If he were to look in the Mirror of Erised right now, which woman would he see?

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she bumped into Remus Lupin, who took one look at her before dropping his armful of chocolate bars and sweeping her to his chest.

.oOo.

"I really am alright, Remus," Hermione said, sipping on the tea he had insisted on buying her.

"I'm sure you are, but drink it for me, will you? I can't exactly offer you a smoke on a school trip, and my mum would have my head if she knew I left a pretty girl distraught on the streets."

"You shouldn't leave _anybody_ distraught on the streets," she frowned, and he flashed dimples she hadn't realized he had.

" _There_ she is, my crusading, fearless friend." Hermione shook her head, wondering if Remus had always known how to make her feel at home.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she said honestly, and he laughed.

"Well, even a Queen has her counsel, doesn't she? Consider me at your service." Hermione frowned, thinking of Mary's admonitions earlier. Whatever was going on here, she was beginning to suspect the stakes were higher than SPEW's Four Tenets. She stirred a cube of sugar into her tea pensively.

"There's one thing you can do for me, actually…"

.oOo.

A/N- So a lot happening in this chapter with little hints and what not. What do you think poor Hermione has just gotten herself into? What's your stance on McKinnon? Potter? Leave me a review and let me know what you think! As always thank you for the reviews/favs/follows. Will respond to last chapter's ASAP.

[Dri: I hope you liked this chapter, then! Hopefully your mirror question is cleared up!] [reisa: You are so sweet! Don't worry, I have no intention of dropping this any time soon. I wouldn't worry about your turning point number 2 _quite_ yet.]


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N- An all Hermione chapter means an all Lily chapter, will return to your scheduled programming next chapter._

 _ **Chapter 10: I Solemnly Swear…**_

.oOo.

 **Thursday, October 7** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

If there was one thing Lily Evans could do, it was keep her promises. She made them sparingly, of course, electing to do almost anything before giving someone her word, but if the situation deemed it necessary, Lily wasn't afraid to go above and beyond. After all, friends were nothing without trust, right? She had promised Frank she'd keep Alice far away if plans ever took a more dangerous turn, and she had promised Mary that she'd run any suspicions by her, Alice and at least one other person after the whole Peter fiasco. Of course, she had been right about him, but for once she wish she hadn't been. Poor James. She didn't particularly like the boy, but he certainly didn't deserve to die, especially not at the hand of his friend and even more especially not protecting her.

It was the accumulation of such promises that made Lily decide that when she returned home, she was going rogue. Her friends would be upset, confused, furious even, that Lily was suddenly deciding to abandon all of their work, but there was simply no way she could keep them close and out of harm's way. They were clever and manipulative and very, very good at what they did, but to truly fight? Out of the question. Alice was too kind, Mary too reckless, Remus too self-sacrificing and Frank, for all his talents, wasn't exactly the physical type. She'd have to find Snape, Regulus Black, Narcissa Malfoy, even, and work from the inside. And besides, it's not like she was leaving her friends out to dry. Everything would be much easier if she had Savior of the Wizarding World as a feather in her cap. Maybe she really _would_ be crowned queen. She shuddered, thinking of the unsavory title her friends would tease her with- Remus especially. He wouldn't think it was funny when that made him King, would he?

Of course, it was entirely possible that Lily would die before any of that came to fruition. It was reckless and rather rude, she was aware, but frankly, she'd rather be dead than have to witness her world going to shite as this one had. Yes, the light side had won, but at the cost of everyone she loved. That was no victory to her. Besides, she was going to die regardless, really the only way to ensure her survival was to eliminate the threat. Although Lily truly did think she could sacrifice herself for her friends—she'd done it for a baby with James Potter, apparently—she'd really rather not. So, she was stacking the deck in her favor, currently working on a universal anti-venom vaccine, one of her riskier endeavors in combining Muggle and Wizard methods. Draco, a tad ironically, was terrified of snakes, so getting a baby Nagini was out of the question. Well, Padma was looking into it, but since they were stationed in his room, she was inclined to listen to him. For now.

She wiped the sweat off her brow, exhausted, sitting back on her heels as the small cauldron she was working on turned an unattractive shade of brown and began to splutter. There was this and the wards and the dozens of side projects Lily had picked up; she was working herself ragged as of late. She wished Sev were here with her. Reading about his role in the war was bizarre. Lily went from adoring the man to hating him. She was grateful for his obsession with her, of course, but the Sev she knew would have never, ever treated Harry the way 1999-Snape did. There were appearances to be kept up, of course, but based on what she had heard and read, he man seemed to truly hate her son, all because of who he was born to. Wasn't that the exact type of mentality he had listened to Lily rant and rave about for years? The norms against which he pledged to fight with her? It was hard to reconcile the desperately love-sick double agent for the man she left back home, so she allowed herself to think of them as two separate entities entirely. Lily shuddered. She'd probably have to sleep with him, when she got back, to ensure his cooperation. She'd have to pretend she was in love, which, not so long ago, wouldn't have been much pretending at all. If Lily did manage to change everything, she wondered what would be left of him. Would he be Sev, her Sev? Or had he been Snape all along, Lily simply blinded by her affection to see the petty hatred—hatred enough to damn not only her husband but her very heritage-boiling underneath the surface?

Cleaning the cauldron, Lily closed her eyes. Draco would be up any moment to work on the wards, she'd need to be on her A game for that. No sleep for the wicked, she thought with a wry smile, wrenching her body up when she heard his footsteps draw near.

.oOo.

 **Friday, October 8** **th**

 **1999**

 _._ oOo _._

 _[Draco's POV]_

When Draco woke up on the floor, he knew it was going to be a bad day. He had barely gotten any sleep, he and Granger had been up for hours chopping their way through the book he had found while Patil went off and fraternized with some nondescript Hufflepuff. Why she got to run around and flirt while he had to defend himself against Hermione, he had no idea, but unsurprisingly, she had nipped his complaints in the bud. _She's_ _excited so we're going to be excited too_ , she had said, although Draco knew she thought as little of Padma's Casanova as he did. How he had gotten to the point where he was discussing Patil's love life while trying not to be poisoned by a book with teeth, he wasn't really sure, but he didn't _completely_ hate it. Hermione, while she was just as infuriating as he had always expected, was something entirely different. She was brilliant and engaging and his antithesis, entirely. The best of it, he had learned, was when he would add his piece to their theorizing and she'd freeze, her eyes wide as if her entire body was on lock down. She'd tilt her head as things slid into place, and he'd always know the exact second they did because her gears would start turning and her body humming and she'd dive for the nearest scrap of parchment and draw, draw, draw. She was brimming with ideas, constantly whirring into action and when he was the one to spur her on she looked at him as if he were the very sun. Despite himself, he would watch her rush about the room, collecting this and that. She was enthralling and exciting and he imagined she'd be warm to the touch.

Of course, right now she was none of those things, because right now she was asleep. Draco swore under his breath, staring at the girl who was currently tangled up in his very expensive bedsheets. Hermione was snoring peacefully, her hair a wild halo framing her face. He sighed, running a hand over his face. Fucking life debts. All things considered, she could be making his life a lot worse than forcing him to collaborate on an interesting project. To be honest, he probably deserved a lot worse from her.

He watched Hermione for a few moments more, her chest rising and falling peacefully. Who, having seen what she did, could possibly sleep so well? He almost thought to leave her until he realized she was drooling on his pillow. He groaned, steeling himself.

.oOo.

"Get up Granger," Draco hissed, pulling his sheets out from under her. "What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping, obviously," a groggy Lily replied, trying to snatch them back. When it was clear that the sheets were gone, she sighed, snuggling into the pillow instead. These sheets were so much nicer than her own, she'd need to ask…It took her a moment to realize where she was. She had specifically asked Padma not to hesitate to throw her into the Lake if she didn't show up to their morning run, but she suspected her pretty friend thought it would be funnier to leave her to fend for herself. Ruthless, Lily thought fondly.

"Granger, you need to go. Now." Had she been more alert, perhaps she would have noticed the urgency in his tone. Instead, she ignored it, rolling over. She heard his footsteps fall away, and she grinned sleepily. She could deal with the sallow heir after breakfast.

Just before she had drifted back to sleep, she was shocked into alertness when she was doused in ice water.

"What is wrong with you?" she shrieked, sitting up, her now wet hair a curtain in front of her eyes.

"I could ask you the same question!" Draco yelled right back, setting his wand down.  
"Do you have any idea what would have happened if someone saw you here? Or worse, if your idiot friends came looking for you?"

"They'd leave me to rest, I hope."

"They would have me in shackles before you could even blink, Merlin, how are you possibly so naïve?" he asked, and her temper flared.

"Fine," she snapped, getting up with as much grace as she could. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, the wet ends slapping Malfoy's pointy face. He sputtered in indignation and Lily suppressed a smile.

"I know I leave you speechless, Malfoy, but do try and use real words."

"Get out!" Draco roared, pointing towards the door, and deciding she wasn't willing to push her luck any farther, she threw herself under Harry's cloak and crept out.

.oOo.

 _[Draco's POV]_

Draco held his breath as Hermione disappeared under Potter's cloak. Little drops of water trailed across his room; just before she crossed the threshold to his door she shook like a dog and tiptoed off. Granger was a _menace_. No wonder Blaise liked her. Draco groaned, closing the door behind her and sliding to the floor.

At times, he thought Azkaban would have been a kinder fate.

.oOo.

Lily stopped by her room, downing a Pepper-Up in one go before taking off towards the Great Hall. She had to have at least one meal with Harry and Ron, and make sure they saw her having another with Padma, or they'd worry. At this rate, there wouldn't be any sausage left, she though mournfully, nearly bowling over a Second Year as she raced through the halls. She ducked into the bathrooms before the hall, trying to catch her breath.

She looked in the mirror, admiring Hermione's wild hair. Draco had commented on it looking even worse than usual, but Lily couldn't imagine ever wanting to tone it down. Curls of what seemed like every color of warm brown tumbled over her shoulders and frizzed around her face, a smattering of freckles dancing under her similarly honey brown eyes. She wasn't the kind of pretty Lily was, but she was stunning all the same. Lily yearned to dress up Hermione's petite frame, but from the contents of her closet, Hermione seemed like a no-frills kind of girl. Lily respected that, of course, but that didn't change the fact that Mary would have had a _field_ day with Hermione. Perhaps she would get the chance, as a weird sort of aunt. Lily had already adopted Harry as her nephew of sorts, since she genuinely cared for the boy's wellbeing, but a son was unfathomable. Even if she _had_ married James, Lily would have _never_ allowed herself to bring a child into a world that rejected her the way it did. After her breathing evened out, she walked towards the hall.

"'Mione!" Harry exclaimed, popping up from his seat when she entered. "Come sit!" he waved her over with a piece of French toast. Lily felt her skin crawl when his green eyes lit up, but she did as she was told, carefully situating herself on the side _away_ from Ginerva. Although she seemed pleasant enough, Lily was going to do her best to avoid having to fool Hermione's best female friend. There were just some things Ginny was bound to know, things Lily hadn't had the time to find out about Hermione quite yet. Hermione was probably having a wonderful time, as Mary and Alice weren't exactly the type to reminisce.

"Hullo Harry," she said with a strained grin. As pleasant as he was, he was a living reminder of everything that she did _not_ want her child to have to live through. With any luck, of course, he wouldn't, because Lily was going to milk this twilight zone for all it was worth and track down the horcruxes herself. She just had to keep her cool, as Frank would tell her, so she refilled his cup of water as casually as she could. It must not have been very casual, because the little group stopped their chatter to stare at her.

" _What?"_ she scowled. For a star athlete, Harry really didn't get enough hydration.

"What do you think, Mione?" Ron asked from across the table, breaking the awkward silence. The boy was entirely smitten with her, how Hermione couldn't tell she had no idea. But again, it wasn't _her_ place to try and set them up if Hermione was adamant on denying herself.

"Come again?"

"The ball," Ginny said, a bit sharply. "We've been thinking of reinstating the Halloween Ball."

Lily choked on her pumpkin juice, leaving a concerned Neville to thump her on the back. Eyes watering, she turned to him. "Is that so?"

He grinned, the spitting image of his mother. "I mean, it'll be a good way to inaugurate the castle, yeah? I think we could use a bit of fun, after everything…"he trailed off. Lily had to admit, it was a good idea, but the thought of having to dance on her death-a-versary didn't sound terribly appealing.

"And how do you feel about it?" she asked Harry. Surely her sometimes-son-sometimes-nephew would have more sense than this.

"I think my parents would have wanted it, too," he said softly, and Lily groaned internally. Harry clearly held his parents on a pedestal, how could she tell the boy that his supposed mother would have sooner swam with the Giant Squid than let him have a bit of fun?

"Well then," Lily said, closing her eyes. "We'd better start planning."

There was a general cheer as Ginny drew up a draft proposal for McGonnagal. Harry leaned over, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You'll save a dance for me, won't you?" he asked, and Lily sighed, nodding and leaning into his arm. He rested his chin atop her head and squeezed her shoulders tight for just a moment before snagging a piece of sausage from Ron's plate and depositing it onto her own.

If she couldn't find a way to get out of this dance, Lily thought wearily, watching the little group laugh as Ron and Harry wrestled with their forks, she was going to show up wearing all black.

.oOo.

"You're late," Padma said as Lily jogged around the corner. Breakfast had taken longer than expected.

"Ugh, gods, I'm sorry," she said, leaning against the stone wall for a moment to catch her breath. "It's been a rough morning, no thanks to you, anyways."

"What? I thought you were having a bit of a lie-in," Padma laughed, and Lily stuck out her tongue. "Come on, we've got to get moving if we want to catch him before classes. Brief me while we walk." Lily did as she was told, discussing the progress she and Draco had made the night before in exchange for tidbits about Padma's romantic endeavors. They were an impressive pair, gesticulating with arms thrown about and heads close together.

"Oh, also, Harry's planning a Halloween ball. It hasn't been approved, yet, of course, but I can hardly imagine McGonnagal is going to tell him off," Lily said as they crossed the courtyard. "Savior of the Wizarding World, and all that."

"A ball? How the hell are we going to have time for a ball? I hardly have time to go to the loo as it is." Padma shifted her bag onto her other shoulder and confiscated a suspicious looking WWW package from a third year without breaking stride. "You don't expect me to go, do you?"

"I absolutely expect you to," Lily said plainly, tossing the handful of Puking Pastilles in the air and eviscerating them with a spell she and Padma had found in one of the books Draco picked. "Considering you should have a date lined up, but I also assume you are no bird, and no net ensnares you—"

"I am a free human being with an independent will," Padma finished with a grin. "One I continually exert to keep your company, although I'm not sure why."

"Oh I'm under no illusions, Patil, I know you only like me for my extensive knowledge of the library filing system. It makes me _irresistible,"_ she said with a roll of her shoulders as she tapped the side of the wall by the dungeons in a pattern Sev had taught her once.

"Well it doesn't make any sense!" Padma exclaimed, ducking through the newly opened passageway without batting an eye. "I swear you can find me things faster than Madam Prince"

"It's because I keep hiding books from her—oh look, there he is. _Professor Slughorn_!" Lily called, the two girls jogging to catch up with their ruddy faced Professor.

"Well good morning Miss Granger, Miss Patil. I don't have you two today, do I?"

"No sir, but we've been looking for you _all morning_ , _"_ Lily fibbed.

"Have you now? You'll have to accept my apologies, then. I do try and make myself available to my students."

"Oh no need to apologize to us, Professor, it would be entirely unfair to expect you to be in two places at once, wouldn't it?" Lily had to swallow a laugh at Padma's sycophantic tendencies. "Now that we have you, however, would you have time to talk? We know your time is sparing but—"

"Nonsense!" he said, waving them into his office. Old Slughorn was practically beaming with all the attention. Lily grinned widely, a surge of affection for her old professor threatening to make her lose her composure. He pulled up a chair for the two of them and settled down, fingers steepled under his chins.

"What can I do for you ladies?"

.oOo.

Lily and Padma left Slughorn's office in high spirits. She twirled around and picked the ends of her skirt up, curtseying to a fourth year who blushed violently as his friends burst into giggles.

"Look at you, so full of energy," Padma looked on bemusedly.

"I'm fairly certain I haven't slept in fourty hours. Besides, it's hard not to be when I'm friends with the new Slug Club princess."

"That is not what I am, Merlin." Padma made a face. "I merely offered my help in running his strange empire. And besides, I'm friends with the new Potions Apprentice."

"Yup," Lily replied. "We'll have access to every potions ingredient and every important person we could ever need. I told you Slughorn was the way to go."

"Fine, you were right, but I still think he's a bit of an oaf."

"Professor Slughorn is brilliant," Lily said vehemently. "And at least _he_ judges people on their capabilities, and not _just_ their heritage. Anyone can earn his favor if they've got something to share." Being a Muggle-Born made Slughorn even more affectionate towards her, something for which Lily would be eternally grateful.

"I suppose you're right," Padma trailed off thoughtfully. "He's not quite Snape, though, is he?"

"No, he is not," Lily replied tersely. The girls slowed down their pace as they saw a familiar silvery, bowed head threading through the hallway. Despite their working relationship, Padma and Lily were very careful with him in public. He usually spared them no more than a discrete nod, one Lily suspected he was about to give them when he was knocked into the wall too forcefully for it to have been an accident. Lily gasped but Padma held onto her wrist.

"Don't, Granger," she hissed. Lily stumbled, seeing red. When Draco was out of sight, Padma released her, and Lily wasted no time pinning the perpetrator to the wall.

"I think you should apologize," she said, her voice deceptively calm as her muscles shook. Hermione was much smaller than her, but she certainly packed a punch.

"To Death Eater filth? I'd sooner you hex me." The boy was a Gryffindor, one of Ginny's classmates she couldn't remember the name of.

"I might have to do just that," Lily hissed. Padma came up behind her, idly twirling her wand in her hand.

"Oh, you wouldn't have all the fun without me, would you Hermione? I can't seem to remember where I kept my last antiquated-propoganda-spewing-areshole and my aim is getting a little shoddy."

"In the trash where he belonged, I assume," Lily said. She pushed her elbow up against his Adam's apple, suppressing a small smile when he gulped. "Luckily for you, we've got a ball to plan for and I'd _hate_ to break a nail." She released her hold on the boy who shot them a dirty look.

"You've gone absolutely mad, you two," he spat before storming off. Once he rounded the corner, Padma pocketed her wand.

"I don't condone violence," she said flatly. "I find it distasteful. I'll back you up, Granger, but I'd rather not." Padma did look rather shaken, her lips pursed and face drawn.

Lily gasped. She hadn't even _considered_ the baggage a war veteran would have with picking fights willy-nilly. This was the kind of thing Alice would have picked up on, she thought forlornly. Now that it was out in the open, of course, Lily would abide.

"Fists to myself next time," she said solemnly, before bumping Padma's shoulder with her own. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"So I've been told. Now come on, we have a very big problem with a very fragile ego we need to take care of." Lily sighed. No Herbology today, it seemed. How was she going to explain this away to Neville?

"Does this happen often? To the younger ones as well?" Lily asked, in reference to the anti-Slytherin sentiment that was brewing in the walls of the school. Up until now, she had no idea it went beyond pointed glares and hushed whispers, all of which Draco could handle. But violence? Unacceptable.

"I think he gets the brunt of it, mostly, or the unfortunate younger siblings of choice families. The little Parkinson girl, for example."

"Because of her _name?_ She's a first year, she didn't even have a wand at the time!" Lily exclaimed.

"I know, it isn't right, but that's just how it is," Padma said morosely, unknowingly uttering the words that always bound Lily like a spell. She had been trying so hard, _so hard_ not to get involved in this twilight zone… Lily thought once again of Frank, of his various balls and the quiet alliances he formed while making calculated quarter turns on a dance floor.

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we," Lily said finally, twining her fingers in Padma's. An act of affection, of course, but also one of solidarity. Padma looked down at their joined hands in surprise, and then smiled.

"Good luck with trying to get Malfoy to—"

"I know. I'll need it. But we'll figure something out," she said, squeezing Padma's fingers. "I promise."

.oOo.

That night, for the first time since she arrived, Lily dreamt of home. She was twirling across the glittering Great Hall as James Potter picked her up, his radiant grin stretching until his face began to crack. She watched on in horror, twisting in his now painful grip to see that the same thing was happening to everyone around her. Chunks of flesh fell to the ground with resounding thunks, and Lily, in a pretty black dress now soaked in red, was trapped, left to dance with skeletons for the rest of her life.

.oOo.

 _A/N- Ah thank you all for the reviews and favs and follows! Sorry this chapter took so long, it was surprisingly difficult to write. Speaking of which, I'm currently tearing out my hair at the thought of writing two balls... Please leave a review and let me know what you think, I promise I do listen to what you all ask for_ _Next chapter we are looking at some Sirius/Hermione interaction, as well as more Lily._

" _I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will." Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte_

 _[Dri: Aw, thank you for the compliment! If I could update this daily for you all, I would, but alas, I am not so fast a writer. Sirius/Hermione coming right up!] [Guest: Thank you!]_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven: "Oi! Angelina!"**_

 **.oOo.**

 **Sunday, October 9** **th**

 **1977**

 **.oOo.**

Hermione panted, doubled over with her hands on her knees. From up ahead, Frank called back.

"Doing alright there, Lils?"

"Just fine, Frank, go on without me!" she squawked, sounding much less fine than she had hoped. Within seconds, Frank was at her side, tugging her along to sit on a rock by the lake.

"I could use a break," Frank said, offering Hermione his water bottle. Although Hermione was certain she could body slam him to the ground, Frank was a fantastic runner. He hardly even looked winded. "You've gotten better from the beginning of the year," he tried, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And in comparison to the last?" Hermione had no illusions that even with the same body, Lily would be the better runner.

"Well not all of us have time to run laps like this lout," he said, pointing a thumb to his chest. "Some of us have campaigns to run," he whispered, waggling his eyebrows.

"Ah yes, my great and many campaigns," Hermione said, having no idea what he was talking about. "They've taken the absolute wind out of me."

"They had better have been," Frank replied, suddenly serious. "Remus and Mary have been working nonstop, you're going to go mad when you see it."

Hermione frowned, unsure of what he was talking about. Of all of Lily's friends, Frank was the one who seemed most in tune to all of her machinations, carelessly dropping Hermione clues. She had no idea that Remus and Mary were even particularly friendly, forget that they were working on some sort of secret project together, but she suspected that it was a part of the ever growing intricacies that seemed to surround Lily and SPEW.

"I'm sure I will," she replied noncommittally, wondering how a girl with so much going on could have written nothing down. Lily's journal had nothing but Head Girl business, perfectly respectable but not very helpful, as Hermione could glean the same information from _Hogwarts: A History_. What she really needed was _Lily Evans: A History,_ because nothing seemed to be as she learned about it.

"Have you found a date for the dance, by the way? I've gotten your gown all in check but I need to know if you're going with somebody." Why Frank was so interested in Lily's affairs, Hermione had no idea, but she was grateful that she wouldn't have to figure out the details of the ball herself.

"Well, Remus laughed me out of the room, so no. Do I absolutely have to?"

"Well Alice is going with me and Mary is bound to find someone to go with to piss off Sirius," he said thoughtfully. "It's your call, really, Lily, but you know where I stand when it comes to these things. Every little thing now can count later, if you play your cards right." Hermione sighed, letting his words wash over her. Sometimes she felt like Lily must have been living some sort of double life, something Hermione was so close to and yet couldn't quite put her finger on.

"What do you want to do when you're older, Frank?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"You mean besides clean up after you and Alice?" He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. "Oh, I don't know. Mum will have me running the estates eventually, of course. Maybe she'll finally let me have my way with the greenhouse."

"You plant?" Hermione asked, voice thick with emotion, her panic at the fact that he hadn't answered with "Auror" quelled by a wave of nostalgia. She thought of little Neville Longbottom from her first year and wondered what he would have been like had he grown up on Frank's shoulders instead of in his shadow.

"Well, you've always said I have a knack for cultivating weeds," he winked. "Maybe I'll be your official gardener. We could do Calla Lilies and Lily of the Valley and-" he trailed off and sighed dreamily.

"A toast then," she said, tipping Frank's water bottle, "to your garden of lilies."

"And a toast for the queen for whom they'll bloom," he said, and before Hermione could decipher what he meant, they were off, racing back to the castle to return in time to get ready for breakfast.

.oOo.

"Would you hurry up Evans?" James yelled from down the hall. "We're going to be late!" Hermione dried her hair, still wet from her shower, with her wand, grateful that Lily's hair never seemed to frizz up the way hers did. "How long do you fucking need to take a bloody shower?"

"I'm _coming,_ damn it!" she cried, almost tripping over her desk as she grabbed her bookbag. "And could you stop being so crass? What would Marlene say?" She could hear James sputter incoherently and she laughed. Marlene and James were, much to Hermione's relief, more of a political statement than they were a couple, posing in front of just the right people to make sure word got back to their mothers—and to an extent, Sirius- while they were allowed to do as they pleased. Although Hermione still was not over her initial trepidation concerning the austere Ravenclaw, she didn't want to go at it with Mary again, so she kept her mouth shut. Plus, it was too easy to tease James about it. She bounded down the steps to their kitchenette, and then yelled.

"Now I'm down here and _you_ aren't, how could you possibly be complaining? For all that work on your hair you're still going to look a mess."

"Watch it Evans," James scowled, stomping down the stairs. Hermione instinctively reached out to smooth Harry's wild mop, but he grabbed her wrist and jerked away. "I'll poison your fucking breakfast."

"Does that mean you're cooking for me, then?" Hermione asked, and he reached out as if he were aiming for her neck. Living with James was strange. He was abundantly clever and uncaring and the best way to get to know him was to get under his skin. Hermione was constantly on her toes, the two trading barbs for respect, or something. Although Harry had inherited his wit, he was much less of a spitfire than his father; Hermione and James' constant, acerbic jabs were nothing like Harry's unwavering affection. They exited the Head Suite, not making it very far before they ran into another Marauder.

"Lily-Love, light of my loins!" Sirius cried, bowing dramatically.

"That is not a compliment Black, that's Lolita, and she was grossly underage."

"But it's Muggle, isn't it? Nothing would ruffle Old Mummy's feathers more than quoting Muggle literature around the house."

"Not even Muggle posters?" Hermione teased, and both Sirius and James stopped to stare at her.

Shite.

"How do you know about those?"

"Lucky guess," Hermione tried dismissively.

"Right." Sirius said slowly, squinting at her. Hermione looked at James for help, who shrugged. "What's your deal?"

"I honestly have no idea what you mean," Hermione said, keeping her voice steady. Just before Sirius was going to ask her another question, Marlene McKinnon came flying around the corner.

"Black!" she screamed, and Sirius whirled around, extending his arms to catch Marlene when she made no attempts to slow down. She jumped unbidden into his outstretched arms, and in an act unbelievably uncharacteristic to her, kissed him thoroughly. James coughed, looking more amused than angry, and Hermione thanked Merlin that today was the day Marlene went off her rocker.

"As welcome as this is," Sirius said once Marlene pulled herself away, throwing herself at Hermione for a tight hug before sobering up with James, "do I get to know why you're so happy?"

"It's your mum, your fucking mum, I've done it finally, Sirius! I've gotten her fucking talons out of Alphard's inheritance." At this news, Sirius picked her up and twirled her down the hall. In his excitement, James turned to Hermione and before he seemed to know what he was doing, had his arms extended for a hug. He dropped them quickly, clearing his throat and trying to make it seem like he was scratching his head instead.

Sirius and Marlene came back moments later, the latter giggling as Sirius dragged her down the hall.

"Sorry Prongs, Evans, but we're off to celebrate!" Sirius called over his shoulder, the two racing to the One-Eyed-Witch.

If Hermione was lucky, Sirius was going to get so drunk he would hardly remember his own name, forget his suspicions about her.

.oOo.

 **Saturday, October 9** **th**

 **1999**

 **.oOo.**

Lily had a plan, as she usually did. Of course, usually, she had four other pairs of watchful eyes on it, reigning her in when she pushed too hard or went too far. Padma was a good substitute, of course, and she rubbed at her temples and lamented to unspecified deities before admitting that the absolute best thing for Draco would be to publically align himself with them. On a Hogsmeade trip right before a ball, of course, that meant taking him shopping. Padma and Lily were currently walking down the cobblestone paths of the little village, nibbling on twin pastries they had snagged on their way out of breakfast.

"Are you _sure_ you'll be alright with him on your own? I could probably reschedule." Lily was rather tied up with Hermione's friends, so Padma was on her own.

"Oh stop it, go spend time with your friends. The last thing I want is a group of Gryffs angry because I'm monopolizing their den mother's time."

"Well you're my friend too," Lily grumbled. "You could come with?"

"Hermione, you know I adore you, but you entirely fill my quota for goodness. Lunch with Longbottom might _actually_ make my head explode."

Lily reached an arm out as they turned the corner, casually catching Draco's elbow without breaking stride.

"Excuse you," he scowled, almost stumbling. "Haven't I seen enough of you two today?" They had spent the morning touring Lily's new office as the official Potions Apprentice.

"Apparently not," Padma said. "And if you're done sulking in alcoves, there's been a situation. Potter wants to have a ball. Halloween."

"A Halloween ball? Isn't that a little morbid? Even for him?" he asked, straightening out his robes and picking up his pace as dignified as he could. Padma handed him a croissant from her bag which he took without complaint.

"I think it's…sweet," Lily tried. Draco and Padma both paused to shoot her a look. "Fine. It's weird. Regardless, we're going."

"What? How are we going to have time for a ball?" Draco asked. The full moon fell on Halloween this year, and Lily had the sneaking suspicion that Padma wouldn't approve of Lily running out of the ball in her dress for a midnight moonlight marsupial sacrifice. "Another entire month because Golden Boy's decided he wants to try his hand at ballroom? I'll kill the damn rabbit myself."

"You are _strictly_ intel, Malfoy, we've talked about this." There was no way Draco _or_ Padma was going to be anywhere near her when she tried the equivalent of their first draft of the blood wards, for which an unfortunate rabbit was to be volunteered. Not only was it _entirely_ illegal, it was dangerous. "And besides, you won't be free either. You're coming, too."

"Excuse you?" He sputtered on his mouthful of pastry.

"I mean, I am _assuming_ you're coming. It'll be good for you. Recluse doesn't exactly scream capable and unaffected, which is what I should think any respectable scion of a house should be."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding Lily of Severus Snape. "I don't like this," he said finally. "And I thought we were looking for books _later."_

"Don't you listen to anything, Malfoy? There is going to be a _ball._ We have to get _dresses._ And since Hermione's off to the lion's den, you get to be my second pair of eyes," Padma said.

"What?" Draco stopped dead in the streets. Perhaps they had finally pushed him too far, Lily thought with a frown. It was a delicate balance between teasing and prodding and demanding to keep him moving, and not having Draco on board was not an option. Of course, Lily did have the handy Life Debt hanging over him like the Sword of Damocles, but she wasn't going to pull that card unless she had to. She and Padma were genuinely concerned about the young heir, and didn't want to leave him to his own devices during an event that was _supposed_ to be fun.

"It's not like you have other plans," Lily tried.

"It's not my fault all my friends have fled the country or are rotting in Azkaban, for fuck's sake!" Lily breathed out a sigh of relief. An angry Draco, she could deal with. It was that melancholy one that scared her. Before she could try and reason with him, Padma had shoved her aside, toe to toe with the man who was her counterpart in almost every way.

"And it's not _my_ fault mine are dead or coping, probably at the hands of yours."

Draco paused, cool grey eyes glaring daggers into Padma's dark brown ones. When she did not back down, he sighed, running his hands over his face.

"You two are insufferable."

"You're a whiny git."

"Will you two stop it?" Lily asked with an exasperated laugh. "I think what Padma is _trying_ to say is that you're a Malfoy and with any luck, you've got the gene for impeccable taste."

"A great and glorious burden," Draco sighed, glaring as Padma handed him her bag with a smug smile. "At least you'll be easier to be made decent than Granger."

"Excuse me?" Lily exclaimed while Padma laughed. She gave Padma and Draco a half-hearted glare, trying to muster up an ounce of annoyance at their antics before she walked off, steeling herself before entering the Hog's Head.

.oOo.

Well into what was sure to be considered inappropriate, even for day drinking, Lily was debating over whether or not she could get Harry and Ron drunk enough to get them to tell her about Horcrux Hunting. She smiled good-naturedly as Ron detailed the disaster that was their flying session. No, this wasn't the time.

"You know 'Mione, you're taking this all much better than I thought you would. I'd reckon Ron's earned himself at _least_ a flock of birds by now," Harry laughed, looking down his shoulder at her.

"Well what can I say, it's hard to stay angry at such a good teacher," she tried, tipping the cup she had been surreptitiously _not_ sipping in Ron's direction. Lily was very good at charming her way out of a situation, need be, and being drunk didn't equate well into this situation. Frank had spent many nights vetting her for the antiquated niceties of the pureblood and powerful, plays she tried to incorporate into her everyday life. "A lady's power," he had said, "is derived from her manipulation and charm, both of which are the same thing, if you're good." And, as she often was, Lily was the best.

"That's quite enough of that, I think," Lily said, pulling Harry's mug away.

"Why does Ron get to keep his?"

"Because Ron can handle his liquor." If Harry was anything like James, he'd be able to drink all of them under the table, but Lily was sure as hell not going to find out. Ron preened under the compliment, laugh cut short when Lily took his mug, too.

"Come on, you two. We haven't even all gotten here. Where is the rest of the motley crew?"

"Well Nev's finally gotten the bollocks to ask out the Hannah Abbot," Harry offered, detailing the shot of whiskey he charmed to look like Felix Felices. Lily's chest swelled with pride, she had done the exact same thing with Remus, who was absolutely shite at potions. She hoped he was doing alright without her.

"Where are Ginny and Luna?" Lily asked suddenly, cutting the story short.

"They've gone looking for dresses, I think," Ron offered. "Gin's over the moon about not having to wear Mum's old stuff." They had gone dress shopping without her? Lily swore.

"Oh for the love of Lady Helga." She groaned, pushing herself away from the table. Ginny _had_ mentioned that at breakfast, hadn't she. "Why didn't you remind me _earlier?"_ If Hermione and the girls were as close as they seemed, it would be unforgivable for her not to be with them right now! Why hadn't she thought of this earlier?Before Ron could answer, Lily was out the door, practically sprinting through the little village. She just wasn't going to catch a break today, it seemed.

.oOo.

Just as Lily finally found the dress store, Padma and Draco stormed out.

"What happened?" Lily asked breathlessly, coming to a shaky halt just before she knocked into an everblooming flower stand.

"Nothing," he said, annoyed. Lily only raised an eyebrow at him.

"It wasn't _nothing,_ Malfoy. Those _bitches,_ " Padma said, turning to Lily, "said they didn't want _his kind_ around. Made it seem like he was harassing me or something."

"They did _what?"_

"Don't you dare, Granger," Malfoy said, sounding more resigned than angry. _That_ was an issue, Lily thought to herself. As much as she wanted to go in there with her wand sparking, it wouldn't solve anything. Padma was sure to have already given them a talking to, and all the attention was probably mortifying for Draco. Lily closed her eyes, thinking of Frank's advice. _What would a Lady do?_ She wrapped her arm around Draco's so he couldn't stride off and waited until a group of girls came to look in the shop window.

"Come on, Draco, Padma," Lily said just loudly enough for them to hear. "What an utter waste of time. I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those, would you?"

"Absolutely not," Padma said. "I can hardly believe they're charging so much for that quality. I could make better dress robes on my own."

"Perhaps that'll be what we'll have to do," Lily replied with a sigh, trying not to smirk as the girls scurried away from the window.

Draco frowned and shook Lily off of him. "Did I really need to be a part of that disgustingly obvious display? For fuck's sake Granger, any idiot would know what you're doing."

"No," Padma said with a little shrug. "But you _did_ say the exact same thing indoors, didn't you? Unless that was just a polite way to say I looked terrible—"

"Absolutely not," Draco cut off. " _You,"_ he said, looking at Padma with a curious expression, "were not the problem. Neither of you are going to be clothed in that filth." He tossed his hair over his shoulder with an air of disdain Lily could only laugh at.

"Why would you _possibly_ want to help us, Malfoy? You don't even want to be there. Or here. "

"Yes, but unfortunately, I am going to be there, and so are you; and if you intend to harass me there, as you have been doing in every other aspect of my life, then you should at least be well dressed doing so." Lily suspected that this was as close to affectionate as he was going to get.

"Look, I know about the whole war hero fund, but I don't think either of us are comfortable spending your usual on a Halloween ball."

Draco scowled, looking affronted. "Did I ask you about your purse strings, Patil?"

"No, but one usually exchanges money for goods and services. I really don't know how you expect us to get dresses without paying for them."

Draco looked at them as if they were completely obtuse. "I'm going to write Mother," he said with such finality that both Padma and Lily burst out laughing.

"Aw Drakey, and you say you don't love us," Lily teased, threading her arm through his elbow and pressing against his side. He looked down at her and gave a longsuffering sigh, waiting until they walked out of the store's little alcove to shake her off.

"I don't know about you, but I have _actual_ business to attend to," he said, pulling away and giving the girls a curt nod before storming off.

.oOo.

As soon as he was out of earshot, the smiles dropped of the girls' faces.

"I thought you said it wasn't bad," Lily said, voice hard. The chips had fallen unevenly after the war, and it appeared that their resident snake was quietly bearing the brunt of the aggression that otherwise would be taken out on his fellow housemates.

"I didn't think I was, for Merlin's sake!"

"It must be if he hasn't bloody murdered us already," Lily said pensively. "I honestly thought he was going to put up more of a fight."

"Oh he wouldn't dare," Padma said nonchalantly. "I wouldn't worry about that."

At her smug expression, Lily gasped.

"What did you do, Patil?" she asked, and in a damn good impression of the scene that had just played out before them, Padma turned up her nose.

"I wrote to his mother, of course."

.oOo.

Inside, Ginny Weasley sighed. After years of hand me downs and a limited budget, she didn't know how to shop for herself. She could have anything in the store, she knew, and thus was entirely overwhelmed. Luna had found a dress within moments. Or rather, she found two dresses she was currently hacking apart with an attendant in the back. She wondered when Hermione would come by. Ginny was under no illusions, the anchor of the golden trio was always in high demand, it was just that…Finally, she decided to step out of the fitting room, perhaps Hermione was waiting up front. She sighed in relief when she saw the familiar frizzy head just outside the shop window.

 _See Gin_ , she thought to herself. _You're always overreacting_. She strode to the door, her jubilant hello dying in her throat when she watched Hermione saddle up next to Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil laughing as they walked away.

.oOo.

 **Sunday, October 9** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

After an evening of holing herself up in the library, Hermione resurfaced to get something to eat. She skimmed along the edges of the hallways, always afraid that Professor Snape would catch her out after curfew. Of course, he was a student and Lily was Head Girl, but at this point, snooping about was practically engrained in her. It was for that reason that she had—unintentionally—crept up behind Sirius, scaring the daylights out of him when she greeted him with a timid hello.

"Fuck, Evans!" he exclaimed, jerking his head up from where he had been resting it against the kitchen's stone counters. In front of him, two house elves fretted with a plate, but he paid them no attention.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Hermione replied, sitting down next to him. He eyed her wearily through red rimmed eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked hoarsely, and Hermione had to stop herself from scolding him. She, being the little swot her fifteen year old self had been, had taken a particular responsibility for looking after the Sirius of her time, one he entertained with a chuckle and a wink. This Sirius, however, looked much less capable of swallowing his sorrows.

"What's happened to you, Black? Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

"I am celebrating," he said, gesturing towards the spread in front of him. "I just blew my first galleons on a motorbike and now I'm fucking celebrating. You wouldn't believe how much Uncle Al's left me, now that Marls has got it out of Mum's clutches there's nothing keeping me a Black, technically."

"You're emancipating yourself," Hermione said, understanding. To be completely honest, Hermione herself would have been in much higher spirits having finally gotten rid of the terror that was Walburga Black, but it wasn't too far of a stretch to imagine she was more pleasant before her husband and favorite son passed away.

"And thank Merlin for that," he said, procuring an ornate flask from the pockets of his robe, which Hermione promptly confiscated, much to his chagrin. Although it wasn't exactly the same, Hermione thought of her own parents; lost to her because of her own faults. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be casted off.

"Don't give me that look, Evans," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I am _fine."_

"I can tell," Hermione replied dryly, falling silent. When Harry and Ron were hesitant to speak, it was usually better to just wait it out. Plus, the alcohol that was undoubtedly running through his system would probably loosen up Sirius' tongue a bit. After a few still moments, he sighed heavily, head dropping to the counter again.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do about Reggie. Haven't spoken to the prat all year, of course, but it's just—" Sirius paused, swirling his goblet of water pensively. "What if Prewett was right, you know? What if I can't handle it and I've left Reg behind and—"

"Oh come _off_ it, Black!" Hermione interrupted. "Everybody knows Prewett is a gigantic arsehole and you getting out of there is the best thing you could have done for yourself! What would you have done if you stayed, hmm? Joined the fucking Purist Party?" Or become a Death Eater, she left unsaid.

"I guess you're right," he acquiesced. "I just don't know what I'm going to do now. I'm not clean cut like Frank or as clever as Remus, and James is practically promised a seat on the Wizengamot as long as he doesn't fuck up royally."

"That's all good and true, I suspect," Hermione said, laughing when Sirius gave her a shove, "but you've got better things going for you than your great hair, Black."

"So you admit my hair is great?"

"I'd be a fool to deny it," Hermione replied, lips pursed. "But you're also a talented duelist and you're wicked with Transfiguration and you've got a heart just as pure as any, I'd think," she said, thinking of the Sirius who had broken out of Azkaban to look after his best mate's son. "So I guess all that Always Pure bullshite didn't go completely to waste."

"You're not half bad either, Evans. I mean you're brilliant and fucking terrifying most of the time, but if I had to choose a Supreme Dictator I suppose it would be you."

"I'm not going to be a dictator, Sirius," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. Whatever Lily wanted to do, she was certain it wouldn't be that.

"Well it wouldn't be you alone, I suppose, considering you've got the brightest of Camelot at your roundtable." Hermione cocked her head, pieces of a puzzle falling into place. The planning, the publicity, Lily and her friends were all vying towards something, something… and Sirius knew what it was.

"Would you join me? Us?"

"And what, secure a place in your new world order?" Sirius looked tentative. "Join the Merry Band of Manipulators…What would I have to do?"

Hermione rolled her neck, considering. "Would you be my date?"

"What?"

"To the ball, I mean. Remus refuses and it'll annoy the hell out of Mary."

At this, Sirius grinned. "You know Frank'll have our heads, kitten, don't you? I don't exactly have the best reputation."

"A talented, powerful, handsome wizard who's just escaped the clutches of the most dreadfully oppressive House in all of Britain?" Hermione leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds like exactly the kind of man I want on my arm," she said, for once not giving a damn about what Lily Evans would think.

.oOo.

 _A/N- So Lily's fairly clearly up to something in her own time. What do you think it is she is trying to do? Up next is the ball after which our lovely ladies finally end up communicating (so as you can imagine, it is a pretty eventful night on both ends)._

 _Thank you so much for all of the reviews/favs/follows, I really appreciate them! Please leave me a review and let me know what you think_

 _[Ai Yaah: Oh goodness, thank you so much!] [Dri: I'm so glad Lily's growing on you!]_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N- So it's not the ball, but this chapter might be better in terms of answering some of your questions._

 _ **Chapter 12: The Other Minister**_

 **.oOo.**

 **Saturday, October 16** **th**

 **1999**

 **.oOo.**

"You know, you're really very good at this," Lily said, seated on the cold, damp earth as Ron Weasley tried to stabilize a screeching Peony Parkinson on her broom, which was currently only hovering three feet off the ground.

"Is that so?" he asked, strained, dodging her flailing arms. "You don't think you could give me a hand, could you?"

"Peony," Lily sighed. "Ladies don't screech."

"That'd be a lot more convincing if you hadn't spent all of yesterday afternoon telling me ladies could do whatever they wanted," she replied shrilly, knuckles white on wood, and Ron snorted.

"So you do listen to me, don't you?" Lily asked, smiling when Peony shook her head no. Peony Parkinson was the equally unfortunately named little sister of Pansy Parkinson, who, apparently, for the life of her, could not learn how to fly. Lily suspected it had more to do with the class itself, where the girl was subjected to much more ridicule than a peer might be. Having to navigate a post war world was scary enough for Lily, she couldn't imagine what it was like on the other side. So, behind Draco's back, of course, Lily had made it her business to take Peony under her wing.

"And it is absolutely ridiculous that you'd be expected to learn how to fly side saddle," Lily said, shuddering at the impractical notion that apparently hadn't died within the circles of the elite. "Besides, last week you said you couldn't get off the ground, and now you're up. Why should I believe you this time?"

Peony's little throat bobbed up and down, the girl clearly trying to gain a semblance of control over herself in front of Lily when Ron clicked his tongue exasperatedly and swung his legs over the broom to sit behind her.

"Have a heart, will you 'Mione? She's _scared,"_ he said, ignoring the beginnings of Peony's regurgitated diatribe about how her broom was worth more than Ron's entire house in favor of slowly rising them up until they were above Lily's head.

"Come on, Pe," Ron said, extracting himself from her clutch as she had quickly stopped talking in favor of clinging to his shirt. "This isn't so bad."

"It's horrible," she replied, peeking past Ron's arms and waving halfheartedly at Lily who was swinging her arms above her head joyfully. After a few moments, she turned to Ron and glared. "Well we're not going to just stand here, are we?" she asked, and Ron laughed, flying slowly over the grassy knoll until they were almost at the ground, Ron's feet dragging against the grass. Without notice, he carefully slipped off, and Peony continued to fly for a moment before realizing Ron had left, promptly stopping the broom mid-air. Just before she hit the ground, a cushioning charm slowed her down, and she sighed and lay face down.

"I think that's enough for today," Lily said, hoisting her up. "You were doing just fine, you know. You wouldn't have needed his help in the _first place_ if you had just trusted yourself."

"Well I thought you had left me for dead!" Peony exclaimed, throwing her arm towards Ron (which was better than her aiming her wand at his head, which was what had happened first lesson).

"I don't know how many times we have to tell you, Pe," Ron said slowly. "We don't do that here." He looked at the little girl intently for a moment, the kind of look he would give Ginny when he thought she didn't notice, and then laughed. "And besides, you _saw_ me put those charms up, you made me do them twice, you little beast!"

"I'm not a beast, and _stop_ calling me Pe," the girl replied, black ringlets bouncing as she shook her hair over her face to cover a smile. "I'll be going now," she announced, turning to leave. Lily lazily reached an arm out and hooked her by her sweater.

"Thank you, Ronald," the girl sighed exasperatedly, sticking out her hand to shake.

Ron pursed his lips to hide a smile. "You're welcome, Peony," he replied very seriously, shaking his head as she threw on her cloak and trekked back to the castle. "She's a right little terror," Ron sighed, and Lily laughed.

"She's come a long way. Didn't have to catch herself before calling me a Mudblood even once." Lily looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You're helping, you know." Despite his initial trepidation of spending any more time with a Parkinson than he had to, her youth had quickly superseded her heritage for him. "You're good with kids. They're the next of everything. I think you're helping a lot."

"Oh please," he said quietly, despite the blush staining his cheeks. Lily hoped that Ron would continue to be this pleasant when Hermione returned, because based on her journal entries, she was afraid the youngest Weasley boy was going to throw a fit. "You only came to me because you're still not good enough to teach anyone anything."

"Is that so?" Lily asked, hand on her hip. Perhaps she had finally faked her way through enough lessons with Ron to let herself loose on a broom. "First one to the castle gets the-"

"Victory sausage? Oh you're on," Ron replied, shooting into the air before Lily could conjure up a spare broom. She followed him in hot pursuit, screeching in a rather unladylike manner as Ron used his head start to show off, bucking his broom like a bull with his hands outstretched towards Lily.

"Ronald Weasley I will knock you off that broom, Merlin help me!" she said, pausing the moment she had. When was the last time she invoked Merlin's name? It had been too long without SPEW, too easy to revert to old habits when she wasn't brewing all day with Padma and Draco or trying not to throw up or cry with Harry and Neville. Being with Ron was just nice when nothing about this world was supposed to be even tolerable. Her eyes began to blur and her broom wobbled, and within moments, Ron had corralled her out of the sky and back onto the ground.

"Too much for one day?" he asked, smoothing back one of her rogue curls before withdrawing his hand like he had been burned. "You were bloody amazing on that thing, you know," he said quietly, looking intently at a pebble on the ground.

"I told you Ronald," she said, reaching out for one of his hands despite herself. "You're _helping._ Too much, even. I only wish you could help me with the ball debacle."

"Sorry 'Mione, give me strategy or Quidditch—"

"-or kids,"

"-or kids," he amended, "and I could help. But this…" he trailed off, putting his hands up in a sign of surrender. After a moment of amicable silence, Ron started again. "About the ball, I suppose it's too late to ask you?"

"It is," Lily affirmed.

"Would it be too late to ask you to one of those Muggle projection things? You know, over the break, maybe. We could go into Muggle London, maybe. Make a day of it."

"Are you asking me to a movie, Ronald? A month and a half in advance?"

"Well you like to plan ahead, Mione, I don't know!" he exclaimed, his face turning red as Lily laughed and laughed.

"I'll tell you what," she said finally, wiping away a tear. "Ask me in December, and I'll have an answer for you, alright? In the meantime, I think we have a race I'm about to win," she said before turning on her heel and running towards the Great Hall. That gave her just enough time, she suspected, to get to the plate of sausage before him, and to hopefully get back home to let Hermione deal with him.

.oOo.

 **Sunday, October 16** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

It wasn't that Hermione was unused to dealing with friendship, because really, she wasn't. The predicament was that she was unused to friendship that was not under constant duress. As irritating as Lily's double life seemed to be, it, at the very least, kept her occupied. Now, with the ball fast approaching, all concerns of anything other than strictly adolescent were thrown out the window, and at times, Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She became increasingly agitated, waiting for Lily to find the mirrors she had hidden, growing more homesick by the day. Alice seemed to take note of her discomfort, and after announcing that they needed a night off, dragged Hermione away from her rounds and regaled her and Mary into the Head Suite. She cleared the mannequins that Hermione had been working on (Lily, apparently, took it upon herself as a SPEW initiative to make dresses for girls who could not afford them in exchange for good grades) and set up a faux projector, trying to make as Muggle a movie night as was possible in the castle. As the three witches alternated between watching Monty Python and dissolving into gossip, her apprehension melted, and she lay currently, shaking with laughter, her head on Mary's stomach.

"What could you even _say_ to that?" Hermione asked, wiping tears out of her eyes as Alice regaled her latest communications with Lady Longbottom.

"Nothing! I just had to sit there and smile! I swear that woman is horrible," Alice said, throwing herself onto Lily's bed facedown. "I want to be her."

"Don't we all," Hermione replied with a sigh as Mary shoved her off to pick up the forgotten bowl of popcorn that Alice had discarded as decidedly too Muggle- _Why is it this color? Butter doesn't look like this!_ -for her tastes.

"Well she _likes_ you, bet she was real disappointed when Frank brought me 'round for dinner," Alice grumbled into Lily's duvet.

"You know that's not true, Alice," Mary said, rolling her eyes. "Lady L is just harder on you because you might actually bear her an heir-no offense Lils, but everyone could tell Frank was about as hot for you as he is McGonagall."

At the mention of children, Alice groaned, curling into a ball. "Can we not talk about kids? He hasn't even asked me for my hand, for fuck's sake. Can you even imagine what a Longbottom baby would be like?"

"Like any other, I'd imagine, since they wait a few years before they insert the stick up their arses."

"Mary!" Hermione shrieked, and Alice aimed a pillow Mary's head.

"That's what Frank told me, I swear!" Mary said, her hands up. "You know we love the lout."

"You had better, because that stick up his arse turned him into one crafty bastard."

"Yep. One high-society, crafty, virginal bastard, indeed."

"Mary!" Hermione shrieked for the second time, and Alice swung her legs out to box the back of Mary's head, who responded by throwing popcorn.

"What do you think of Philippa for a girl?" Alice asked when she had settled, hands behind her back as she looked up at Lily's ceiling dreamily. So much for not wanting to talk about children, Hermione thought with a smug smile. At least _one_ couple was as in love as they should have been.

"Philippa Augusta Longbottom. It's got a ring to it. Dreadfully regal, so it should pass inspection. Is it still Nicolas for a boy?"

"No!" Hermione interrupted before Alice could reply. Both girls looked at her with identical expressions of confusion.

"Why not?" Alice asked. "You said it was charming last time."

"Yes, well, I changed my mind. There are just so many other names, better names!" Hermione said, sounding a bit desperate even to her own ears. "Neville, for example."

"Neville?" Alice asked doubtfully. "I feel like I'd be setting him up to be teased."

"Nev is kind of cute," Mary said with a shrug. "Neville the Devil. Still like Nicolas better though, Lulu."

"Frank'll hate it. He'd love a Neville," Hermione tried weakly.

"Who gives a fuck about what Frank thinks?" Alice asked. "Let him shove a watermelon out of his arse and then try and tell me what to do."

"Woah kitten," they heard as Hermione's heavy door creaked open. "Didn't need to hear about your kinky sex games," Sirius said, walking in with Butterbeer, Remus, who followed, having confiscated the elven wine he'd nicked from Flitwick's office.

"Oh please Black, everyone knows I'm closer to cobwebs than—"

"Does everyone know the password?" Hermione interrupted, astounded, as Remus and Sirius promptly made themselves at home. Despite having just been adopted into their little crew, Sirius settled in with as much ease as he seemed to do everything else.

"Heard you were having a night," Remus said with a warm smile, sitting down without a moment's hesitation next to Hermione. Sirius shuddered.

"I always knew you two were secretly shagging," he said, and Remus rolled his eyes and put his chin on Hermione's head, silencing her with the crook of his elbow. Based on his level of comfort with Lily, with whom he was a million times smoother than his fumblings with Tonks, Hermione suspected Lily and Remus were strictly platonic. The problem, she thought, looking at the dark shadow that danced across Remus' prickly jaw, was keeping it that way. Thinking of his dead wife and orphaned child often did the trick.

"Haven't you heard? We're to be married, Siri, no secret shagging. I'm her newest project. Or her oldest, actually." Hermione rolled her eyes, but Remus went on. "I'd like to think I'm a little more palatable than Snape, anyways." Sirius squinted his eyes, cogs turning.

"Project? What could she possibly…This is about Werewolf rights, isn't it?" he asked, and Remus nodded. "If you're married to the fucking…of course!" he exclaimed. "But why do you two act like you barely know each other now? Wouldn't it make more sense to build up a cushy romance, or some shite?"

"Sex sells, certainly, but for one," Alice began to answer, but Frank, who had just walked in, cut her off.

"Think it through, Black," he said, passing Lily a box. "For your dress, Lady Lily."

"I guess in case everything goes to shite and somehow people find out? Plus, it's not like he can really help her in terms of status right now, no offense, Rem. Right now you're a liability. The whole werewolf thing would be easiest to slip in when Lily's established and well liked…Sell it like some sort of despite-all-odds love story, maybe?"

"Well would you look at that," Mary said. "He's a natural. All this time I didn't realize you had anything in your brain besides pranks and party tricks."

"Excuse you," Sirius glared, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "I'll have you know I'm a man of _many_ talents." He turned his attention back to Remus and Hermione, looking slightly ill. "Minister Mudblood and her werewolf husband. You scare me, Lilith. You all scare me. Do you two even…" he trailed off.

"If it's deemed necessary for the Greater Good, I think I could manage being half of the most powerful couple in England. Could you?" Remus asked Hermione, eyes twinkling as he released her from his grip, only for her to fall promptly on the ground beneath her.

.oOo.

 **Sunday, October 17** **th**

 **1999**

.oOo.

"Please get up from the ground, Luna," Lily said gently, watching the curious blonde who was contorted over the edge of the bed and reading off the floor. On Sunday morning, Luna stopped by Lily's room, the two reviewing Divination text. Harry had expressed his incredulity that she was taking such a course, but frankly, Lily could care less. If the woman who foresaw You-Know-Who's downfall was at this school, Lily was going to learn from her, end of discussion.

"Alright," Luna replied, swinging back up to face Lily, her face red from the blood that had rushed to her head. They continued to flip through their notes for a few more minutes before Luna spoke again.

"There's something hidden under the floorboards," Luna disclosed just as serenely as she had commented on tea leaf patterns.

"What?" Lily sputtered. She had been looking for a message from Hermione forever!"How can you tell?"

She tapped her peculiar glasses of her own invention with a grin. "They feed on secrecy, you know." She tossed them towards Lily, who snatched them out of the air in excitement.

"Tell the others I'll be late for breakfast?"

"I can try, but there's no guarantee I can save you any—"

"Sausage, I know, it's fine." She said, rolling her eyes, thinking of Remus and Alice going head to head every Sunday morning for the last bits of meat. Luna smiled at her and floated out of the room.

Tentatively, Lily put the glasses on. Her vision swam for a moment, before coming clear again, she saw everything in a wash of blue.

"What the hell," she murmured, scanning the floor when the faintest wisp of light whizzed by her vision. She crashed onto her hands and knees, trying to follow its path when she finally spotted an entire cluster of the bright little lights, hovering over a floorboard in the corner. She wished she had a hammer.

"Are you a witch or not?" she mumbled to herself, carefully removing the board with her wand. The little lights scattered as she came near, and Lily had to wonder what the little creatures were that she was sharing a room with.

"Well, as long as you don't bite," she said, sitting back on her heels and staring at the small dark space under the floorboards. Without the glasses, all she would have seen was black, but with them on, she saw hundreds of the little light creatures settled around a box the size of a textbook. She pulled it off, blowing the dust and lights off of it before replacing the floorboard.

"Who are you and what is your purpose?" was the small inscription on a metal plate where the keyhole might have been.

"I'm Lily Evans and I'm expecting something from Hermione Granger," she tried, and much to her relief, the box clicked open to reveal…

"A mirror?" Lily asked with a touch of annoyance. She was hoping for a note or a portkey or something. How would this help her contact Hermione?

As she thought the girl's name, one of the vines on the ornately forged compact lit up, snaking its way around the whole mirror. An enchanted mirror, now that made sense. Lily held the object patiently, watching as Hermione Granger's face swirled into blackness, soon to be revealed by her own.

.oOo.

 **Monday, October 17** **th**

 **1977**

.oOo.

"Lily you _must_ understand," Hermione cried, wondering how this conversation had gone so terribly wrong. "I can't…there's just too much at risk. The sooner things go back to normal for us, the better."

"You expect me to _understand_ that you can singlehandedly save hundreds of lives, including my own, and you're choosing not to?" The first thing Lily asked was where the Horcuxes were hidden, and things immediately went downhill when Hermione realized that Lily wanted her to change the past. _You're worried about my friends thinking you're acting strange when you could be saving their lives?_ Lily had practically screamed. _You need to sort out your priorities!_

"That's a gross oversimplification and you know it! Haven't you read anything on time travel? I thought you were supposed to be brilliant." It was a weak jab, but Hermione was furious at Lily's accusations.

"I am smart enough at least to know that this has never happened before, Granger, and if it has, we certainly wouldn't know about it! We get to make the rules this time." Lily's expression of fierce determinedness looked foreign on Hermione's facial features. The woman was truly indomitable.

"I understand Lily, believe me, I do, but your son…" Hermione thought of Harry, wringing his hands as he paced back and forth in front of his Gringotts vault, asking what kind of stone Ginny would like the best. Maybe there was a chance she could save them all, but it seemed more likely that she would ruin his life even further. "I can't risk it," she said resolutely.

"My son? _My son?_ Excuse me if it's hard to believe that I'm supposed to have a child with the absolute bane of my existence, and even if I do, why would I ever let him grow up like Harry has? That boy has-"

Hermione had to refrain from tearing out her hair. "You're willing to risk the entire Wizarding World because you're too stubborn to admit you fancy James Potter?" she interrupted incredulously.

"Don't you dare talk to me like I'm a child when you're asking me to sacrifice my life and put my " _son"_ on the Cross, you unfeeling cow."

"Unfeeling cow?" Hermione laughed indignantly. "Maybe, but you're a naive little schoolgirl. If this is about James, Remus will never, _ever_ love you. He has a beautiful bride much younger than you-"

"And they die, don't they? They're going to die and you don't want to do anything about it. Well, let me tell you something, when I get back—" Lily suddenly interrupted by a knock to the door.

"'Mione, come out, will you? Gin's going to drive us all mad if you don't come down to eat," she heard the faraway voice of Ron call into the room. Hermione shuddered, thinking of Remus, who was bound to be at her door saying the same thing about Alice. Of course, Ron was alive and Remus…

"Just a minute!" Lily called before turning her attention back to the mirror.

"Listen here Miss Granger," she said, her voice in a dangerous whisper. "I get it, you were robbed of your Seventh Year and now you want to prance around and play Head Girl, fine. But when I get back I'll find the Horcruxes myself-"

"You'd die sooner," Hermione interrupted.

"Good, because I'd sooner die than marrying Potter and damning my son to lead Harry's wretched life."

"Well then maybe you will," Hermione retorted, "because if you won't do it, then I'll just marry James _for_ you and you'll just have to deal with the consequences."

"You wouldn't _dare_."

"Oh, I would, Lily. You said you've read about the war, but you don't know the half of what I've done, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. They'd send you straight to St. Mungo's sooner than you could convince anyone to help send you back. Things happen after a war you know, even the brightest minds can crack, they'll say."

Lily sputtered, knowing this was true. Hermione, at least, could prove that she was from the future by revealing choice things to Dumbledore, but there wasn't really anybody Lily could prove her identity to. "Well then I'll just figure it out without you, and in the meantime, I'll just play a bit of matchmaking on my own, shall I? What is your relationship with my son exactly?"

"We are _friends_ ," Hermione grit out between her clenched teeth.

"For now, maybe, but I doubt either he or Ginny will want to be on good terms after you ruin their wedding. Unrequited love is so tragic, don't you think?" Lily said, tipping her head.

Hermione sputtered, shocked by the threat. "You...you _bitch_!"

Ron knocked on the door again, and Lily got up.

"Says the girl who just threatened me a sentence in the Thickney Ward. Anything I should know before I let you dictate my life?" Lily asked venomously.

"No. Anything I should know before you try and ruin mine?"

"No. May the brightest witch win then," Lily said, setting down the mirror and terminating the connection, leaving both girls to scream into their pillows.

.oOo.

 _A/N- So they finally meet. Is it what you expected, or no? Sorry for the lateness, but finals are over! Hope all of you are having a lovely December._

 _ **ONE SHOT ALERT:**_ _So to try and give back to y'all for being such wonderful readers, I am offering one shots/outtakes to the first person to answer the question I sometimes have at the end of the chapter correctly. Last chapter, it was colecionodesafetos, whom I've PM-ed with deets (get back to me within the month if you're interested!). Also offering one to my 100_ _th_ _reviewer (who is probably a ways off, but hey)._

 _Thank you all for your reviews/follows/favs, you're amazing! I am in the process of PMing back last chapter's reviews, will get to that ASAP!_

 _[Beth: Thank you so much! Ginny comes back before the ball, so you won't have to hold on too much longer to see how she's doing. I hope to have two more chapters out within the month, but don't hold me to that...] [Dri Almighty: Sorry for the wait! Unfortunately, this only answered one out of your two questions later, but we'll get back to Sirius (and James) next chapter, I think!] [Ai Yaah: Thank you! And the ball is coming, I swear! Two chapters from now, as it is planned.] [Guest: Hermione's happier, too!]_


	13. Chapter 12-5

_A/N- Hello! So, this chapter has been a monster and I didn't want you to think I had forgotten about you, so here is an update on our girls. Consider these as outtakes from random days between the actual chapter (so between last chapter and the one after this). I continue to plug away at the full chapter._

 _ **ALSO, 100**_ _ **th**_ _ **review gets a scene request/outtake. I'll explain at the bottom.**_

 _ **Chapter 12.5**_

 **.oOo.**

 **1999**

 **.oOo.**

In a flash of very brief rage, Ginerva Weasley debated marching up to Hermione; demanding answers for her absence, for her new friends, and for the way Ron seemed to light up around her when Hermione had spent the greater part of the last year warding him off. The anger came and went, of course. Hermione was a grown woman and it was certainly her prerogative to keep new company—even spineless, selfish, bigoted company-, so, after making sure her Bat-bogey Hex was still up to par, Ginny pressed her lips together and went about her own business, of which there seemed to be no shortage. Somehow it was Ginny who had been assigned Honorary Head Girl (Headmistress McGonagall had thought it unfair to award the honor this year, since there were seventh, eighth, and technically even ninth years about), and she had been tasked with organizing most of the details for the ball. Thus, she was rather surprised when Harry snatched up her schedule after breakfast.

"Hermione wants to see you," he announced, helping himself to her eggs. "I'm sure I can handle giving a bit of a dance lesson," he said, looking at the itinerary. McGonagall was, in her own words, far too old for such formalities, so it was once again Ginny who was forced to pick up the slack.

"I'd have more confidence in you if you hadn't almost broken Fleur's foot last summer."

"You know, I vanquish a Dark Lord, but it's just not enough," Harry said, shaking his head. "It's never enough for her," he complained to a passing third year with an infuriating twinkle in his eye. "Seriously though," he amended, "I got it. Go say hello. I know you miss her."

"I don't miss her," Ginny insisted, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "Fine, I'll go. Love you," she added, almost begrudgingly, pushing his face away when he came in for a kiss. "You haven't shaved, you're prickly."

"Now I have to _shave!"_ Harry lamented loudly, turning to the Head Table. "The list, it just goes on and on!"

.oOo.

In a way, Lily admired Hermione Granger. She was a pretty little thing, intelligent too, and had made countless sacrifices for the war efforts in this time. If the situation hadn't played out such that Hermione was her dire enemy, Lily suspected they would be friends. Not that that would stop Hermione, it appeared. The girl claimed to have loved Remus and even Sirius in a way, mourned over their losses in writing, but had no reservations over expecting Lily to as good as murder them. She was certain, that friends or not, Hermione wouldn't hesitate to axe her too. She may have been a cold hearted, narrow minded swot with a superiority complex, but she was brutal. She was powerful.

Thus, it was out of respect that Lily decided that if she were going to be here for a bit, which it appeared that she would, she would try to play nice. Hermione thought (thought, of course, because Lily had an enormous amount of trouble determining what could be wrong with ending a war before it begun) she was fighting for her own friends the way Lily was fighting for hers, she wouldn't begrudge her that. She'd never follow through with ruining her relationship with her supposed-son (ew), and Lily rather liked the rest of Hermione's (very accomplished, very connected) friends, so she'd do what she could to stay in their good graces. Today, that meant sitting with Ginny as she finished a complicated beauty potion.

"Uh, 'Mione," Ginny said hesitantly. "It's starting to smoke."

"Perfect," Lily replied, unaffected. "Do you mind stirring clockwise twice, then back around for another go?" Ginny did as she was told, looking slightly ill as Lily picked the incandescent wings off a brightly colored beetle and crushed them with her pestle. "This part is the fun part," she said, schooling what had previously looked like a boiling pot of goo into a light lavender. Severus had concocted the thing their Fifth Year, back when Lily's skin had decided to break out the night before the first ball they were allowed into, and she was pleased that the recipe was being passed on.

"It may sting a little, but don't mind. Just let it sit for ten or so. You'll look the best you've been. Can't use it too often, but it's perfect for a ball."

"Will it dry you out?" Ginny asked, holding the vial up to the light to watch it shimmer.

"It'll poison you," she replied, trying not to laugh when Ginny almost dropped the bottle. "It's the snake venom."

"Is that why you keep her?" Ginny asked, gesturing towards the snake that was wrapped comfortably around a coat hanger. Lily and Padma had snuck the thing into the castle, along with Hagrid's help, the night before.

"What do you think I do, milk the poor thing for cosmetic reasons?" Lily asked, tossing the beetle carcasses. "She's my friend." As if to corroborate, the snake raised its head and flicked its tongue "Although Draco won't be able to stand her. How do you feel about babysitting?"

"Not me," Ginny said, looking considerably paler. "But ask Harry, perhaps he'd like a new friend." She took one last weary look at the snake and sat on the workbench, clearing her throat when Lily didn't look up from bottling the potion to give away.

"So, erm, it's Draco now, is it?"

"Well, he's certainly not anyone else," Lily replied with a private little laugh, one she quelled when she sensed the tension rippling off Ginny's body. It was hard for Lily to properly gauge how close the girls were, Ginny wasn't a part of their little Hero Trio, but she did seem to be the closest female to her. Perhaps she was like a Remus, somewhere between what Alice and Mary were to her, and what she thought of Sirius. She certainly couldn't tell her to shove off like she would the lycanthrope, so she opted for something a little more civil.

"You don't like him," Lily said, leaning against the bench. "Have at it, Ginerva."

"It's not that I don't like him, and I mean, I don't, well, Hermione you know what I think of him!" Ginny exclaimed. Lily did not know what Ginny thought of him, so she would have to tread lightly. She decided to bank on Ginerva's good will for her friend.

"And what about what I think of him? What does that mean?" Lily asked softly, tipping her head. Ginny deliberated for a moment.

"Everything, I suppose," she groaned. When Lily broke out into a wide smile, Ginny held her hand out to stop her. "But that doesn't mean I like it. Or understand it, for that matter. And the second I see him up to something I'm going to report him and he's getting shipped off to Azkaban faster than he could call up Daddy Dearest."

It wasn't as amicable as Lily would have liked, but it was more than enough. "His Mum, actually. He'd call up his Mum." When Ginny raised an eyebrow, Lily gave her a sly smile. "Let me tell you about it."

.oOo.

 **1977**

.oOo.

Hermione wasn't angry at Lily per se, she was just the easiest target in what had quickly become the biggest mess of her life. Even more so, she had concluded, after what felt like hours of mulling over the situation, than Voldemort. At least with that thing, there had been a clear cut answer. Save Harry, kill him. It had occurred to her briefly that Lily was probably using the same kind of logic against herself, save her friends, kill Harry, which, she realized, essentially made her Lily's Voldemort. Of course, that didn't make too much sense, she wasn't _trying_ to kill anybody, so the dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Still, it was unsettling. Lily and her friends, they were so bright, brimming with ideas on what seemed like _everything_ , from infrastructure to the judicial system. If it could be improved, they were looking into it. Hermione still wasn't privy to _everything_ , but Sirius' introduction into their motley crew served as an introduction to Lily's life for the both of them. It made sense, of course, that these children, well educated, well off, looked to politics, but Minister _Mudblood_ … There was something angry, something vindictive about the well-mannered group that she couldn't quite place her finger on, the disquieting sense of danger reflected in Lily's dress.

"This dress is terrifying," she said flatly, fingers running over the dark material of the gown, and Alice answered with a wide grin. Hermione tried not to shiver.

"Isn't it? You said that costumes were a no go, and since Frank and I are _never_ giving up the good Lord and Lady, we figured regal would be the next best go. And I mean, it's not _scary_ scary-"

"It's scarab-y," Sirius chimed in with what must have been the seventh pun of the hour, earning him a groan from both women.

"If you weren't wearing that _very_ expensive Longbottom heirloom," Alice said, gesturing towards the circlet meant for Lily he had put on his head, "I'd have boxed you."

"Are you telling me that the absolute treasure that is my head on its own isn't enough to ward off your wrath?" Mary poked her head into Lily's room and shot Sirius a dark glare, her mouth a tight line around the pins she had been using to make last minute alterations to one of the SPEW gowns. At this, Sirius sobered, and Hermione had to stifle a grin. Although Sirius still wasn't entirely sold on Lily, she could tell, he clearly wanted to be kept in the girls' good graces.

"Alice, can I have your help out here with this? Let them dress before Frank comes and rips her a new one," Mary called.

"Longbottom? Rip one into Evans?" Sirius looked at Alice unbelievingly.

"Oh he's all fun and games until he's handling your affairs. Then he's his mother. That's why Lala here is the sacrificial lamb, not me." Alice replied, bouncing to her feet. "It's tough love, Lils, don't forget it," she said as she left the room, leaving Sirius and Hermione to stare at the array of accessories she had been left.

"It seems a bit like overkill, don't you think?" Hermione asked, looking at something that looked far too much like a corset for her liking.

"Don't ask me, I'm just the arm candy," Sirius replied, and Hermione snatched the circlet from his head.

"You're not arm candy, Black," she replied impatiently. "Get up, will you?"

Sirius groaned but got to his feet. "You drive a tight ship, Evans."

"By expecting you to have opinions and not to waste away on the floor all day? Besides, if anyone should be on the floor, it's me. Frank's had me in dance classes all week. Dance classes! It's _absolutely_ ridiculous for a school dance," Hermione lamented, and Sirius shrugged.

"It's a little much for school, I'll admit, but just about on par with what you'd be doing in our world. You know what balls are like, don't you go to the Longbottom's Yuletide?"

Hermione sighed, not knowing the answer. "Is it worse for the Black family affairs?"

"Of course it was," Sirius scoffed. "They had us in dress robes before we were out of our nappies." When Hermione only slumped her shoulders, Sirius nudged her, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Come on Evans, cheer up. It'll be good, I promise. I'm loads of fun. Ask Mary." He said, cringing when Hermione shot him a look. She suspected that Sirius didn't have a lot of experience comforting girls in distress, and he certainly didn't have a lot of experience with Lily Evans. Still, he was fresh-faced and juvenile and more optimistic than she had ever seen him.

"Go get dressed, will you? Frank wants to see how we'll look as a pair, or something," she said in a low voice, looking down.

"Please, I could wear a sack and I'd still look fantastic." When Hermione did not laugh, Sirius frowned.

"You alright, Evans? If it's the dress, I'm sure you can just tell them you don't like it. The whole Board of Governors thing might not even pan out."

Confronted once again by allusions she did not understand, she shot him a strained smile. "I'm fine, Black," she assured him, although something about her expression must have told him otherwise, because he yanked the chain he kept under his shirt from off his neck and raised an eyebrow.

Hermione did not even wait for him to tell her it was a portkey to take the other end.

.oOo.

 _A/N- You guys are the actual best. I can't tell you how much your reviews mean to me. I wish I could write this faster for you all but alas, life gets in the way. If you like this idea (snippets when I can't do a full chapter), let me know. If you'd rather wait for the whole thing, tell me that too._

 _ **ONE SHOT ALERT:**_ _If you are my 100_ _th_ _review, you get to request a scene that I didn't write but you would like to see. For example, you could say you wanted to see Lily and Ron's flying lessons, or Padma and Draco trying to buy a dress. I'd love it if you were logged in so I could PM you, but if you don't have an account and you know you're the 100_ _th_ _reviewer, request what you'd like in your review. Otherwise, I'll just message the next logged in person, or take the next not logged in request (whatever comes first)._

 _Again, honestly, thank y'all so much for sticking with me. It means the world._

 _[Dri: You're amazing. Hope you enjoyed this!] [Noodlia: thank you habibae xoxoxo] [Ai Yaah: Harry is around! Will be more so next chapter]_


	14. Chapter 13

_A/N- I love you guys. Thank you for the kind messages and inquiries and follows and reviews and reading this even. This is really long, I hope it makes up for some of this very long wait._

 **Chapter 13: Hermione, Maybe**

 **.oOo.**

 **Sunday, October 24** **th** **, 1999**

 _[7 days until the ball]_

 **.oOo.**

Lily Evans tried not to cringe as, in her haste, her lab notebook slid off the edge of the table, her luck sizzling away in the mess of a cauldron she had been meaning to throw out.

"Professor Slughorn, what a surprise!" she exclaimed, turning around to face the door. Desdemona, as she had named her fanged familiar, slithered under the table and out of sight, journal in its mouth. _And Draco always wonders why we let you hang about, you brilliant thing,_ she thought fondly.

"Ms. Granger, I hope I didn't startle you," he said, hands up, "You wouldn't happen to know where the bezoar for class demonstration is, would you?" he asked, and Lily grimaced.

"I'm sorry sir, I really did mean to put it back," she said, pulling it out from her bag. "Patil and I were up late last night and I didn't want to wake you to ask. I really do think we're making headway with the vaccine approach," she said, just as one of the cauldrons in the back began to spew purple smoke. "We call it Pompeii."

"Not a problem my dear, but I am sure you had it around for emergencies, as human trials would be _very_ irresponsible."

"Of course," she lied, thinking about how she and Draco had taken shots of a newly modified Dreamless Sleep they had been working on earlier in the week. Eager to change the subject, she pulled a folder out of her bag. "I've graded the fifth years, the poor things, if you want to turn them back." Slughorn didn't look exactly pleased.

"Ms. Granger, there is actually another reason I wanted to drop by. You've clearly been hard at work here," he gestured to the room, "but shouldn't you be participating in the pre ball festivities like the rest of the students? Mr. Finnegan, I've heard, has taken on the task of the after party."

Lily didn't remember much about him, but she had heard he was inclined to explosives, so it was bound to be a good time. "Well, I'm sure he can handle it," she said with a shrug. "I'm better at use here, anyways."

"Nonsense," he chided, "Although I do think it may be time for you to find a hobby of sorts."

"A hobby?" Lily asked, wrinkling her nose. "Professor Slughorn, I assure you I am in no shortage of a balanced lifestyle."

"Perhaps not, but what of your friends? Mr. Malfoy, for example? They do seem to take after you," he said, and Lily frowned. Just because she was literally preparing to fight for her life upon her return, didn't mean Padma and Draco had to as well.

"You're right," she began.

"Of course I am!" he said joyously, casting a stasis charm on the room. "Now go, you are officially banned from this room until after the ball."

"But sir!" she cried, and Slughorn shook his head.

"I will not hear a word of it Ms. Granger, you _must_ go out and participate. It's good for you," he said, and when Lily sighed, Slughorn gave her a reproachful look. "Come now, Ms. Granger, everyone is making attempts at normalcy. Even Mr. Potter with this ball of his. You owe it to him to at least try," he said, getting up to leave.

"I suppose you're right," she conceded, knowing that Hermione Granger couldn't exactly argue with that logic, given the morbid anniversary it was on. Lily Evans certainly could, but she wasn't exactly, well, alive. "Professor," she asked, poking her head out into the hall after him. "Did they go to the ball together? Harry's parents, I mean?"

"You know," he replied, looking thoughtful. "In theory, they must have, but I really can't remember at all."

.oOo.

"Where's Hermione?" Padma asked, patting Desdemona on the head as she walked by. "And why the fuck is the Weasley girl _still_ lurking about? What have you done to the poor thing to make her distrust you so much?"

"The usual, I suspect. My aunt torturing her best friend, my father getting her possessed, my utter disdain for the Weasleys?" he listed distractedly, waving the knife he had been using to cut up newt tails. "I don't know, take your pick."

"And Granger?" Padma asked, plucking it from his hand and tossing it in the sink. "I think that's enough for now."

"Gone for the week."

"How?" Padma asked, her tone sharp as she whirled around and glared at him. Now the excess of newt made sense.

"The girl's got a bad reputation when it comes to working herself ragged," he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the book he had been thumbing through. "I guess Slughorn noticed."

"Little Lord Fauntleroy, a tattle tale at heart," Padma said. "You have three minutes to convince me why this isn't a terrible fucking idea," she stated, knowing damn well what Draco was going to try and convince her of. Up until this point, she had been willing to somewhat tolerate his ridiculous fantasies, knowing there was no way he could actually _do_ anything while Hermione was around, seeing as it would defeat the purpose.

"Patil, you're the smartest girl I know-" he started.

"Not Granger?" she asked, and he cocked a silvery eyebrow. "Right, foolhardy Gryffindor complex. She'd do anything for a friend." Padma sat down heavily, resting her chin on a fist. "What does that make us?"

"Cautious." Draco said. "Sensible. You're not any less of a friend, Patil. Just less of an idiot, maybe. Don't you think Granger would do the same if the situations were flipped? Wouldn't you want her to?"

This, Padma had to consider.

"I just think you're overreacting, Malfoy. I don't know if I should indulge it."

"I'm not saying I'm right about this, Padma. I'm just saying that we should know. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened in this sham of a school, and everyone has got their heads too far up the Potter Parade to notice. We can't just do _nothing_."

"Not again?" Padma asked coolly, evidently hitting a nerve with the usually composed heir, who set his jaw. "Fine. I'll help. But _only_ for the academic experience, and not because I think you're right."

"Of course," he agreed, the unsettling shreds of doubt left unresolved in the air between them.

.oOo.

After realizing that neither Slughorn nor McGonagall remembered really anything about Lily her last year, she had locked herself in her room with the compact, hoping to knock some sense into Hermione. Of course, her attempts seemed to be in vain.

"You know Granger, I'm beginning to think you have it out for me. First with that ridiculous hair-"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Hermione asked, reaching a hand up to smooth out the plait she had put Lily's red mane in.

"—and now with this? It's like you're _trying_ to kill me."

"Well, it isn't killing if you're already dead, is it?" Hermione asked, and Lily barked out a laugh. The girls were in a constant tug of war between wanting to strangle the other, and finding comfort in the only other person with whom they could be themselves.

"That's what I'm saying! Who says that I'm _your_ Lily Evans? You have to admit I don't sound much like her. Married to Potter, for fuck's sake." She knew Hermione, who was constantly lamenting how backwards Lily's life apparently was, secretly agreed. "Multiverse, Granger. Schroedinger warned us _ages_ ago."

"I don't _care_ who said it, Evans," Hermione stuttered. Lily assumed she might care a little more if she had placed who Schroedinger was, but she suspected this was not the time for a lesson in physics. "That's absurd."

"That's what you wrote about Divinations, isn't it? Even though Trewlaney is obviously a seer. _I_ think you dropped the class because you couldn't stand that the Brown girl figured out how to be the teacher's pet _and_ vaguely tolerable all at once."

"Hilarious, Evans. You know, if you had tried that about 5 years ago, I may have fallen for it. Why is it again you have the maturity of a 14 year old?"

"Why do you act like you've already been sealed in a crypt? Even if you're convinced I'm your Lily, it's obvious we have an opportunity here! We get to write the history they can't remember" Lily cried, trying to reign in her temper. Frank, she knew, would have reprimanded her gently, _don't let them know how badly they get under your skin, Lily,_ he would say. Of course, this wasn't your run of the mill negotiation. This was about their lives, so she figured her makeshift advisor would let this one slide. Hermione only looked angry for a moment, before she sighed deeply and ran her hands over her face.

"I'm sorry, Lily I really am," she said, her voice soft and low. "Are you doing alright, with you know, everything?" The older girl asked, referring, Lily assumed, to her fast approaching death-a-versary.

"What do you care, Granger?" Lily's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm already dead."

 **.oOo.**

 **Monday, October 24** **th** **, 1977**

 _7 days until the ball_

 **.oOo.**

Talks with Lily had recently become more tolerable. The two had come to an acceptance that neither was willing to help the other, and thus avoided the topic all together, instead relating harmless stories from their day. It was this Slughorn situation that had thrown Lily in a tizzy again. Not that Hermione could blame the girl, of course, but Lily's talks of physics and old magic and planetary alignments meant nothing, at the end of it all. Despite being in Lily's body, it was always Harry's eyes she'd have to answer to in the mirror, and it had been a longstanding truth of hers to do whatever she had to in order to see them open another day. Although she was terrified of what it meant in the long run, Hermione would simply have to wait until Lily came to her senses, or continue to live her perplexing life, one currently made tolerable by her company and the never ending amount of busywork the ball seemed to have brought upon her. Today, it was assembling boutonnieres for the Muggleborns.

"Damn," Hermione swore under her breath when her shaky hands closed around something sharp.

"You okay?" Sirius asked from a workbench, where he peered over a small cluster of baby's breath, trying to wrap the delicate stems with a shimmery ribbon that kept slipping out of his hands.

"Just knicked myself on a thorn," she sighed, reaching for one of the blooms that had fallen off to the side, then deciding to fall back onto the damp, packed earth of the greenhouses. Lily had apparently started the boutonniere tradition years back. It was sweet, Hermione had to admit; delivering them had become one of her favorite parts of the pre-dance insanity that had been consuming her life the past few weeks. But, of course, as she was quick to learn, nothing in politics was ever quite as simple as kindness. She hadn't missed the way other girls, young ones especially, looked on in curiosity, some jealousy, when the Head Girl and a boy who was arguably Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor made their rounds at dinner. It was much more interesting than what they were learning in Muggle Studies, anyways.

"Let me see," he demanded, coming over. Hermione held her hand aloft, snatching it back when Sirius made to put the wounded finger in his mouth.

"What is wrong with you?" she cried, exasperated, and he shrugged.

"Kiss it to make it better?' he tried, sitting down next to her. "Good spot, Evans. It's cool down here."

"It's cool most places right now, Black. It's almost November," she replied. She and Sirius had become reluctant (on his part, anyway) conspirators. When it came to Camelot, as Sirius called them, Hermione was his best ally, standing by him on days he decided he wanted their approval, or making excuses for him when he, disgusted with himself, skived off. In return, he took it upon himself to try and "help" Hermione. While work remained largely undone, she was happier.

"I had no idea," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes. "How many more of these do we have?"

"Only a couple. Thank you for finishing up the sixth years' last night, by the way."

"You're joking, Evans. That wasn't me. _I_ was lending my talents to our fine republic in another way."

"And what way is that?" Hermione asked.

"Sneaking alcohol into the castle for the after party of course. We need to order more Firewhiskey though, so we'll make a run later this week too. I'd invite you to come along, but you know, Head Girl and all. James is already right pissed about it—"

"Understandably so" she interrupted. She, frankly, was relieved that she would not be able to attend what was apparently the one time houses intermingled for a single outrageous party, but she imagined James would not be so pleased.

"—so I'd appreciate it if I didn't have to hear it from your end too."

"Fine," Hermione replied, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. "Go. It's not as if there are only four or five plausible places you could be holding a party so big anyways, or that Mary doesn't already know every nook and cranny of this castle. It's really quite ridiculous that you think any of this is a secret—Black?" she asked, opening her eyes and realizing that he was long gone. The help had been good while it lasted.

.oOo.

Alice and Mary stood outside the greenhouse, watching the scene inside with mild disgust.

"She's gone mad," Mary whispered, watching Lily lay back on the ground. "The ball is in days and we've literally given her the easiest job there is and she still isn't done."

"I feel like we should just put her out of her misery," Alice whispered back, and Mary looked at her in surprise. "Well I don't mean axe her, obviously! Just, you know, let her retire, or something."

The two girls managed at least two seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Ah, that's a good one, Al," Mary said after gaining her composure, linking arms with Alice.

"Wasn't it?" she asked, the two making their way back to the castle. "I am glad she's making friends though, I'm surprised, honestly. Didn't think she'd want to put you in a weird position."

"What, because I've _never_ had to be around one of my exes before?" Mary asked, and the two girls burst into laughter again, leaving the curious pair behind them.

 **.oOo.**

 **Wednesday, October 27** **th** **, 1999**

 _[4 days until the ball]_

 **.oOo.**

As much as she loved Hermione, because really she did, Ginevra Weasley did not have time for her idealism. No matter how, Hermione taking Draco Malfoy to the dance was not going to go over well. To be honest, Ginny had been relieved when Hermione told her Draco said he wasn't going. "What a shame," she had said, trying to sound sympathetic, but Hermione just shrugged in the easy confidence she seemed to have adopted lately. "I'm sure he'll come around," she had replied. She apparently was still sure, even though he still hadn't changed his mind, and Ginny almost had to tackle her earlier before she let it slip to Ron.

"It's _just_ a date, Ginny, I don't see why we don't just _tell_ him," Hermione asked as she held Ginny's dress in her lap, stitching together a last minute alteration. The two were stationed on her bed, Crookshanks snoozing in Ginny's lap.

"If you were going to tell him, you should have done so ages ago!"

"Well I didn't know it was going to be a problem until recently!" How Hermione didn't consider going to the ball with Draco Malfoy would be an issue, Ginny really had no idea, but not wanting to jeopardize their rekindling friendship, Ginny didn't comment.

"Trust me, if you tell him now, he'll be boiling from mulling it over the next few days. If he sees you there, you'll at least have the I'm-a-mature-adult-who-can-handle-this-stage on your side."

"And how long will that last?" Hermione asked, and Ginny considered.

"Depends on how long you dance with Malfoy," she replied, and Hermione laughed, handing back her dress. "If you must tell him, don't say it so matter of factly. Ease him into it, alright?"

"It is a matter of fact," Hermione responded stubbornly, but at Ginny's expression she sighed. "For you, I might consider."

"Thanks, Mione. You're a lifesaver," she said.

"Why don't you stay?" Hermione asked, handing back her dress. "Hannah Abbot is coming by later, apparently she and Neville have gotten into a tiff and she wants to look so good he'll never forgive himself. Plus, Padma and Draco are brewing so you won't have to see them if you don't want to."

"I'll have to pass. Duty calls," Ginny sighed regretfully. "Are we still on for breakfast later?"

"If I'm not up," Hermione said, opening the door to let Ginny out, "You have full permission to drag me out of bed."

"Will do," Ginny replied, laughing as Hermione reached out for a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh and Ginny," Hermione added as she walked away, and Ginny turned around to where Hermione was standing leisurely against the still open door. "Stop following Draco around," she said. "Nobody likes a sneak." It was said with a teasing lilt, of course, but Ginny was left wondering how Hermione knew she had been sneaking around the boy she still didn't trust any farther than she could throw. Something about her easy smile left Ginny unsettled even as she ran into Harry moments later.

"Hey, Gin," Harry greeted with his lopsided grin. "Everything alright?"

"Fantastic," she replied weakly. Harry looked at her skeptically. "Just ball stuff, it'll be over soon. What are you up to?"

"Ron and I are stopping by 'Mione's office, apparently she's got a snake and my Parseltongue is getting a little rusty."

"You can't!" Ginny panicked. The last thing she needed was to deal with a Ron and Draco showdown.

"Why not?" Harry asked slowly, the genuine concern creased in his furrowed brows both comforting and infuriating. Couldn't he just be negligent for a day? She didn't want to lie to him.

"Well, I was just there, and, the snake. It's not there, you see." This, at least, was true, Hermione let the thing roam free in the Forest whenever it pleased and Ginny could have sworn it got bigger and bigger every time she saw it. How she and Padma had kept it a secret from Draco for so long, she had no idea.

"Oh! That's alright then. Maybe I'll just drop by to say hello to Mione."

"You can't do that either. Neither of you. Because I need your help."

"Oh! Sure Gin," he said, and Ginny set about rounding up her brother and dreaming up a task to put them on, cursing her friend under her breath the whole while.

.oOo.

After replacing the candles in the Great Hall (a terrible, tedious task only the daughter of Molly Weasley could assign), Harry and Ron had finally made it to Hermione's lab, where an ever icy Padma Patil handed them a rather heavy box and told them not to bungle this, lest they get caught. Harry supposed, after the mess that was the Yule Ball, she had her right to keep things cordial. He and Ron hadn't exactly been ideal dates. It wasn't personal, either. She and a few other Ravenclaws, Ginny had told him, ran what had become an underground infirmary during that last year he had not been present, and admist the hell that the Carrows had put them through, she had hardened and emerged more beautiful and damaged than ever. Despite Ginny and Ron's disbelief that Hermione had chosen to spend so much of her time with someone so seemingly stiff, Harry could see _exactly_ why the two got along.

" _D'you reckon she hates me_ ," Harry asked Desdemona, a curiously named snake if you asked him. Since the end of it all, his natural gift for Parsletongue had begun to disappear, so conversation thus far had been difficult.

" _Does she think of you…a better question to asssskkk, perhapsss_ ," the snake replied, now out of its box and curled comfortably around one of his bed posts.

" _I didn't ask for the sass, alright?"_ Harry paused for a moment, trying to remember the correct word. _"Is she…nice to Hermione?"_

" _Maybe_." Harry look at the snake in alarm.

" _What do you mean maybe? She may be nice?"_

" _Maybe Hermione,"_ it replied, not making much sense at all. Semantics were difficult when everything sounded like hissing.

"I really should start writing this stuff down," he said to himself. Hermione had been nagging him all summer to document the language before it slipped out of his grasp. " _Do you think Ginny'll let me get a snake of my own?"_ he asked, but the snake did not reply, slithering under the darkness of his bed to take a nap.

.oOo.

 **Sunday, October 30** **th** **, 1977**

 _[14 hours until the ball]_

.oOo.

"Oi, Padfoot!" Remus Lupin exclaimed, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and shaking him roughly. "Where have you _been_?"

"For fuck's sake, Moony," a groggy Sirius replied, shoving his friend away. Last he remembered, he had been with Lily…ah yes, that made sense. He had been with her all afternoon to help replace candles in the Great Hall, and had hightailed it out of her company as fast as he could, lest Lily try and rope him into another one of her seemingly endless tasks, or even worse, a lecture. He vastly preferred it when James was the victim of her moral tirades. Of course, that hadn't happened in ages, and now Sirius was beginning to understand why her indifference seemed to drive James crazier than anything else. Lily was a difficult woman, but she was so sure of herself and her judgement that Sirius could be damned by Merlin himself and she'd still yank him up by the ear and insist he get his arse to work. She and her friends were carving themselves a spot on the sun and for reasons he (and judging by the looks he received from McGonagall and Frank and about everyone else) couldn't quite grasp, she was offering to take him along for the ride. He just wasn't sure he could accept.

"Well?" Remus asked impatiently. "We've got to _go!_ Orders in and I don't trust Aberforth to sit on that much alcohol and not touch it." The Marauders (minus James, of course, who was _not_ allowed to attend as Head Boy) were putting together what was going to be the best after party Hogwarts had ever seen.

"I could ask you the same thing, Mary nearly tore me a new one looking for you." Where Remus was considered the most dutiful, studious of the Marauders, he was the very least of Lily's friends, it was a dichotomy that Sirius was still having trouble wrapping his brain around.

"That'll be her, of course, you know the woman," he dismissed casually, dragging Sirius out of bed. "Anyways, you _completely_ missed DADA Friday, Prewett finally got knocked down a peg."

"By who?" After the incident earlier in the year the Marauders had decided Prewett was too volatile for a newly emancipated Sirius with an inheritance on the line to tackle. It was about time someone do what needed to be done. "Was it Alice? The girl's a sweetheart but I'm telling you I bet she'd rip his eyes out if he tried it on Frank."

"Better. It was James."

" _Our_ James?" Sirius asked in surprise. Burdened by the Head Boy title, James had been doing his best to stay out of the warpath of adults who did not agree with his assignment, their very own Minerva included. He couldn't imagine Prewett was particularly pleased about it, either. "Tell me it was something stupid."

"Our James?" Remus mocked back. "Of course not." He regaled the details of their earlier lesson to Sirius, who was torn.

"Oh fuck Evans," he whispered under his breath, because he knew perfectly well it was the Fates' talk of the importance of reputation and futures and connections that barred him from being anything other than wholly delighted. When Remus looked at him questioningly, he sighed. "Why is it that you're allowed to be both?"

"Handsome and brilliant? I couldn't say."

"Shut up," Sirius replied, shoving his friend. "I mean, you're one of us, and one of them. Lily's people."

Remus slowed his gait and turned to his friend. "Padfoot, you can't, she's not. How do I —"he sighed deeply. "You wouldn't want in with them, anyways. It's a ridiculous amount of work. Great people, of course, but I can hardly bring myself to care so much about the future half of the time, I don't know how you'd manage it." Remus laughed. "Be happy it's just a dance."

"And I'm just her date," Sirius said, trying to keep the bitter edge out of his voice. "Of course. What do you say about cracking into one of those cases early, eh?"

.oOo.

 _[13 hours until the ball]_

Before James could stomp out of detention dramatically as he would have hoped, he caught sight of Marlene McKinnon sitting in a window, and knowing better than to blow off his date to a dance, he walked over.

"Come to make sure you can still write home to Mum about Head Boy? I'm not so stupid as to put that in jeopardy, you know."

"I'm going to need you to take it down about four levels, Jamie," she answered, laughing exasperatedly at his hostility. "I didn't come here to lecture you. And what makes you think I care about your title? Or tell my mum about it? If I were to write home to my mother about anybody, I'd do better than Head Boy," she sniffed.

"But could you do better than a Potter?" he asked. "Given that Frank's already practically married, and everyone else is boring or old or utterly useless?" They were both acutely aware of the politics that went on with among Pureblood circles, Marlene's family being _just_ out of reach of the elite. An arrangement to a family as deeply entrenched in British Wizarding culture as the Potters would make her untouchable. Of course, neither had any intention of such a thing.

"Maybe not, but could you do better than a date to a dance who knows you'll be staring at another girl the whole night?" Marlene retorted, and James grimaced.

"Could you not start it with Evans? You know, especially considering you're supposed to be my _date_ ," he mumbled, and Marlene made a wretching sound.

"Oh for Niviane's sake, Potter, you've been my date to dances since we were twelve, why should it be different at school? We are friends spending time together allowing others to come to conclusions," she said primly. "So if you want to pretend to be over her with Sirius, that is fine by me, but don't insult me."

"You know I don't mean to insult you, Marls," he sighed. She was in many ways, he knew, doing him a favor; it wasn't worth the argument. Not while she had the upper hand, anyways, since James wasn't sure how exactly their sham of a courtship benefited her, since she didn't have anything to prove.

"I know. And I shouldn't push you to admit things to me you haven't to yourself." she replied, laughing when James made a face. "But will you at _least_ tell me what that scene in DADA was?"

"I thought you weren't here to lecture me," James replied.

"I'm here to thank you, actually. It was entirely unnecessary and irresponsible of you."

"Is there a 'but' somewhere in there? After which you sing me glowing accolades?" She shot him a withering expression and he relented. "He's just so _rude_ to you, Marls! Evans hasn't shown up all week and he hasn't said shit to her or herfriends."

"Look, James," Marlene said gently. "I can defend myself against some has-been Auror with anger issues, okay? And be nice to Lily. She's got a lot going on, Head Girl and all."

"And I don't? I'm Head Boy! Frankly I don't understand why everyone lets her get away with this shite. If I didn't show up to class, Minnie would have my head mounted above her desk."

"Maybe Prewett's now," she replied, taking James' hand and pulling him into an alcove away from prying eyes. "You swear you won't tell anyone?" she asked, and James nodded. Marlene ran a hand through her hair, looking nervous. "Lily hasn't quite been herself lately."

"This is my problem because?"

"James!" she exclaimed. "I am _trying_ to be serious. Frank says she hasn't even written home." James' eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You mean the girl who staged a sit in when she found out Muggle parents couldn't come to tour the grounds?" he asked, trying to keep the worry that was creeping up inside his gut from coloring his voice. He thought back to the night she had slept in his bed; the crying, the nightmares. He had, in true Potter fashion, thrown his wealth at the problem and forgotten about it completely. "Maybe she's just grown apart, or something." It was weak even to his own ears.

"Unlikely. She's got a sick mum at home." When James' expression turned to one of mild panic, Marlene shook her head. "Look, I'm not telling you this so you feel bad, and I'm certainly not saying you have to coddle her. As if your lot accepts help from anyone anyways," she lamented, mostly to herself. " _Gryffindors_. Stubborn to a fault, all of you. Anyways, just don't make her life any harder than it has to be, alright?"

"Fine," he grumbled, not wanting to be pulled into her affairs again. "But if I have to cover one more of her night rounds with no notice, I swear to Merlin I—"

"You won't have to," Marlene replied emphatically, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll talk to her, okay? I know you're trying, Jamie," she said with an expression akin to tenderness. It was just then that Prewett and McGonagall walked by, an array of decorations charmed to follow them. Prewett barely looked in their direction before he dragged James out of the alcove by his ear.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," he spat, and James threw his arms in the air.

"We weren't even _doing_ anything!" he exclaimed, irritated that it was Lily once again who had inadvertently gotten him in trouble. "Minnie, help me out, here!"

"There will be plenty of time for canoodling at the Ball, Mr. Potter," she replied. "Come along now, there is work to be done."

"And Lily is nowhere to be seen," he whispered under his breath. "Duty calls," he said to Marlene. "I'll pick you up from the tower tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it," she replied, shooing him off. It wasn't until he was around the corner he heard Marlene's footsteps hurrying to catch up with him.

"Oh, and Jamie," she said, and in something close to sentimental, she looked at him and said: "You can wear the hat."

"I knew you'd come around!" he exclaimed, picking her up and twirling her in the air, before running off as Prewett's angry " _Potter!"_ echoed through the halls.

.oOo.

 _[10 hours until the ball]_

James Potter laughed when, later that night, he came around the corner and bumped into Marlene McKinnon on his way to sign in for rounds.

"I thought you were going to talk to her?"

"And I thought you weren't going to cover any more of her shifts?"

"Well I'm not heartless, Marlene!" James scoffed indignantly, shaking his head but offering her an elbow. The two walked in amicable silence. That was, until she looked up at him with a shit eating grin.

"You know what _was_ heartless?"

"What?"

"You don't have to call me sir, Professor," Marlene drawled, mimicking James from earlier that week, still reveling at how Prewett had turned a lurid shade of beet red, nearly drawing his wand on Potter. "I can't believe you actually _said_ that to him, you nut!" she laughed.

"I wouldn't tease if I were you, Prefect McKinnon," James sing-songed, using his lead to steer her towards the Great Hall.

"What are you going to do, Head Wanker? Sic Prewett on me?"

"No," James said, throwing open the doors to a supply closet off the main dining space, eliciting a gasp from Marlene. "Worse. _You're_ going to help me with decorations," he announced catching her by the waist before she could run off.

"Let me go, you urchin!" Marlene laughed, struggling against his grasp and knocking him into a box of confetti. "Or at the very least, feed me first."

"A girl after my own heart." James shook his head, trying to get the bits of colorful foil out of his unruly mop. It was no particular secret that James liked to snack while he worked. "To the kitchens?"

.oOo.

 **Saturday, October 30** **th** **, 1999**

 _[9 hours until the ball]_

.oOo.

"For fucks sake, Potter," Lily Evans whispered harshly when Harry let her go. "You nearly scared me to death!" She hadn't the time to make a sound when a hand covered her mouth, another on her waist, and she was dragged into an alcove against a hard chest. She tried to wriggle out of its grasp, but was rendered effectively immobile. It was only when a curiously marked tabby cat trotted down the halls that Lily realized what was going on.

"Oh please," Harry said, unaffected, "if you were really scared, I would have been dead by now. Are you going down to the kitchens?" he asked, and Lily nodded. "Good. Wouldn't have done us any good to let McGonagall send us back to bed."

"Can she do that?" Lily whispered as the two hurried down the hall, and Harry shrugged.

"Probably not, but we might as well let her. She's getting old, you know," he replied, dodging a slap from Lily as they climbed through the giggling pear into the yellow warmth of the Hogwarts kitchen. Lily was pleased to see that some of the house elves with whom she made acquaintance were still employed at Hogwarts, but refrained from reaching out for hugs, lest she startle them.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" Harry called towards the arrangements of high tables the elves allowed, and Lily laughed when she realized they had stumbled on Ron and Peony sharing treacle tarts. Peony looked at the three adults and slumped her shoulders.

"I assume you'll have me leave?" she asked, pouting when Lily only replied with a pointed look. "Alright then, she said, hopping down from the chair and trotting out of the room.

"Who is-shouldn't someone go with her?" Harry asked, bewildered by the presence of the little thing.

"She'll be fine," Lily said, waving it off. "Especially since she is just hiding in the hallway and hasn't actually returned to her common room," she sang, waiting until her footsteps faded away. "If you're not careful, Ron, she's going to be entirely smitten with you."

"Don't be ridiculous. She sought me out because I'm the tallest person she knows and she can't reach the pear herself." He slid the plate of pastries towards Harry and Lily. "What brings you two here?"

"Damage control," Lily replied. Padma's inconsequential Hufflepuff date had apparently dropped her in favor for someone, in his words, a little less frigid. Well, it was that, and someone who didn't hang about Death Eater rejects, but Lily and Padma had decided to keep that one to themselves. "Padma's been dumped so we're keeping her company."

"That's terrible…Does that mean I'm no longer the worst date she's ever had, do you think?" When Lily only glared, Ron shrugged. "Has Gin dumped you too, Harry? I feel like I would have heard about it."

"Shut up. I'm bloody starving. Board of Governors are stopping by the ball and I'm supposed to talk to them," Harry groaned, closing his eyes, "which really means put together a presentation on why we're a wonderfully happy school and everyone is so much better off." Lily watched as Harry tore apart a crumpet with particular vigor. "Which I haven't even started putting together, of course," he said around a mouthful of crumbs, and Lily laughed. "What?" he asked defensively, pulling the plate closer to himself, "I missed dinner."

"So did I!" Ron exclaimed. "Charlie was supposed to come in this week for Team Teach but didn't show, so I'm stuck making lesson plans." he grumbled. Defense Against the Dark Arts was currently being rotated through various teachers. "What the fuck do I know about DADA?" Lily and Harry both shot him a look. "Teaching, I mean. Teaching."

"You'll be great," Lily assured him.

"Better than the ball, anyways," Harry grinned, nudging Ron in the ribs.

"What, like you're any better?"

"No, but Ginny _loves_ me," Harry said smugly. "And she already knows I'm a shite dancer. Luna's going to leave you in the dust."

"Do you two not know how to dance?" Lily asked, appalled. "Shall I call Peony back in?" She had spent what felt like countless hours holding Frank's sweaty palms as they practiced under the perpetually unimpressed Augusta Longbottom's supervision. At their expressions, Lily assumed she was right. "Lucky for you two, I've taken up a hobby," she said, jumping off her seat and extending a hand to Ron. "Harry?" she asked, and with a wave of his wand, the two were off, stepping in time to Muggle waltz as Lily resolutely ignored the way the two men looked at her.

.oOo.

"What took you so long?" Draco whispered in hushed tones, rushing to his door when Lily knocked.

"Ran into Ron and Harry. And Peony, actually."

"Parkinson?" Draco asked incredulously, and when Lily begun to explain the budding relationship between the future Slytherin Ice Queen and Ron, Draco shook his head. "You know what, never mind. Go do something, will you?" he asked, gesturing towards the rather unaffected Patil.

"Is she alright?"

"Perfectly fine. It's unnerving," Draco shuddered.

"You _know_ I can hear you, don't you?" Padma asked from where she was stationed on an extra bed, staring out at the dark lake. She turned towards Lily. "How are your friends? It's a little late to be up, isn't it?"

"Harry's got some presentation, and Charlie's stuck in Albania with the dragons, or something, so Ron's doing Team Teach. You know, if _you_ ever wanted to teach a lesson, I've got a pretty impressive bollocks-freezing hex you could send the wrong way…"

.oOo.

Padma caught Draco's eye, and perhaps against her better judgement, summoned a bottle of elven wine she knew he had "hidden" under the floorboards.

"Care for a drink, Granger?"

.oOo.

 _A/N- As said, you are the best. I so hope you enjoyed this! Plenty to mull over, I hope! As always, feel free to ask me any questions. I got some very good ones last chapter and tried to address them here. I know it's a slow reveal for a lot of pieces, so if some things are more important for you to know than others, let me know! Your feedback makes me a better storyteller, 100%._

 _ **ONE SHOT/SCENE REQUEST ALERT**_ _– First person to answer this question correctly: What does Draco think is going on? There is a specific word I am looking for in your answer, a couple of hints in this chapter… Remember, if you are not logged in, please check back next chapter to see if you were right and let me know what you want to read!_

 _[Beth: You are an actual angel and I love love love hearing from you. I hope you enjoyed getting to read a bit more about carefree Head Boy James. Wonder how long that will last…] [SSB: Hopefully this cleared some things up, but if not, I hope at the very least it left better questions! Thank you for your review!]_


End file.
